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SANWEGO 


PR  5189  P5  S3  1891 

;;NIVFOSrv  or  CALirORNlA    ^.m   dieco 


3   1822  01052  8511 


S3 
V,  i 


THE 


SCOTTISH    CHIEFS 


a  asomance 


BY 

JANE    P,ORTER 

AUTHOR   OF   'THADDEUS   OF  WARSAW' 


There  comes  a  voice  that  awakes  my  soul.     It  is  the  voice  ol 
years  that  are  gone ;   they  roll  before  me  with  all  their  deeds. 

OSSIAN. 


IN  TWO   VOLUMES 
Vol.  I. 


CHICAGO 

A.    C.   McCLURG   AND    COMPANY 
T891 


DEDICATION 


TO 


THOMAS   CAMPBELL,   Esq. 

MY  DEAR  SIR, —  When  I  began  this  work  it  was  my 
intention  to  inscribe  it  witli  your  name ;  but  when 
I  had  completed  it  I  became  too  doubtful  of  its  merit  to 
venture  distinguishing  it  with  a  mark  of  such  pretension. 

Opinions  which  the  world  respects  have  since  given  me 
a  happier  impression  of  my  labors ;  and  therefore  I  no 
longer  deprive  myself  of  the  opportunity  of  paying  this 
tribute  to  a  friendship  sanctioned  by  the  test  of  years,  and 
as  dear  to  my  heart  as  it  is  honorable  to  my  name. 

While  the  intellectual  rank  of  the  true  poet  and  the  vir- 
tues of  the  manly  character  continue  to  be  understood  and 
appreciated,  the  name  of  Thomas  Campbell  must  page 
with  the  first  in  this  land ;  and  while  the  endearing  amen- 
ities of  the  soul  are  the  bonds  which  unite  friend  to  friend, 
I  must  ever  be  proud  and  happy  in  subscribing  myself,  with 
every  grateful  feeling, 

My  dear  Sir, 

Your  obliged  and  faithful  friend, 

JANE    PORTER. 

Long  Ditton, 

March,  1816. 


PREFACE. 


To  paint  the  portrait  of  one  of  the  most  complete 
heroes  that  ever  filled  the  page  of  history  may  be  a 
bold,  though  I  hope  not  a  vain,  design.  The  contempla- 
tion of  virtue  is  an  improving  as  well  as  a  delightful  em- 
ployment ;  and  however  inadequate  this  picture  may  be  to 
represent  its  original,  yet  that  it  is  a  copy  of  such  excellence 
will  be  merit  in  the  eyes  of  those  who  love  virtue  and 
venerate  its  shade. 

I  have  spared  no  pains  in  consulting  almost  every  writ- 
ing extant  which  treats  of  the  sister  kingdoms  during  the 
period  of  my  narrative.  It  would  be  tedious  to  swell  this 
page  with  a  list  of  these  authorities ;  but  all  who  are  inti- 
mate with  our  old  British  historians  must  perceive  on  read- 
ing "  The  Scottish  Chiefs  "  that  in  the  sketch  which  history 
would  have  laid  down  for  the  biography  of  my  principal 
hero  I  have  made  no  addition,  excepting  where,  time  having 
made  some  erasure,  a  stroke  was  necessary  to  fill  the  space 
and  unite  the  outHne.  Tradition  has  been  a  great  assis- 
tance to  me  in  this  respect;  and  for  the  most  essential 
information  on  the  subject  I  am  indebted  to  the  suggestions 
of  my  invaluable  friend,  Mr.  Thomas  Campbell,  who  has 
so  nobly  mingled  the  poet's  bays  with  the  laurels  of  his 
clan. 

While  tracing  my  characters  in  the  Scottish  annals,  it 
was  with  infinite  pleasure  that  I  found  those  virtues  in  the 
fathers  which  have  attached  me  to  their  posterity.  De- 
lighted with  this  most  dear  proof  of  kindred,  I  have  fondly 


Vlll 


PREFACE. 


lingered  over  my  work,  re-enjoying  in  its  visionary  scenes 
hours  fled  to  heaven.  I  have  again  discoursed  and  min- 
gled my  soul  with  friends  whose  nobility  of  spirit  honored 
the  illustrious  stems  from  which  they  sprung ;  but  like  the 
blossomed  bough  torn  from  its  branch,  they  are  gone,  and 
spread  fragrance  in  my  path  no  more. 

It  is  the  fashion  to  contemn  even  an  honest  pride  in 
ancestry.  But  where  is  the  Englishman  who  is  not  proud 
of  being  the  countryman  of  Nelson ;  where  the  British 
sailor  that  does  not  thirst  to  emulate  his  fame?  If  this 
sentiment  be  right,  respect  for  noble  progenitors  cannot 
be  wrong;  for  it  proceeds  from  the  same  source, — the 
principle  of  kindred,  of  inheritance,  and  of  virtue.  Let  the 
race  of  Douglas  or  the  descendants  of  the  Percy  bear  wit- 
ness whether  the  name  they  bear  is  not  as  a  mirror  to  show 
them  what  they  ought  to  be,  and  to  kindle  in  their  hearts 
the  flame  which  burned  in  their  fathers!  Happy  is  it  for 
this  realm  that  the  destiny  which  now  unites  the  once  con- 
tending arms  of  these  brave  families  has  also  consolidated 
their  rival  nations  into  one,  and  by  planting  the  heir  of 
Plantagenet  and  of  Bruce  upon  the  throne,  hath  redeemed 
the  peace  of  Britain  and  fixed  it  on  lasting  foundations. 

From  the  nature  of  my  stor^',  more  agents  have  been 
used  in  its  conduct  than  I  should  have  adopted  had  it  been 
a  work  of  mere  imagination  ;  taste  would  have  selected  the 
simplest  means  of  accomplishing  the  fable,  and  where  the 
principle  could  be  followed  without  an  extravagant  viola- 
tion of  the  fact  it  has  been  obeyed.  Very  few  persons 
wholly  imaginary  have  been  introduced;  and  wishing  to 
keep  as  near  historical  truth  as  was  consistent  with  my 
plan,  no  intentional  injustice  has  been  committed  against 
the  characters  of  the  individuals  who  were  the  real  actors 
with  the  hero  of  the  tale.  The  melancholy  circumstance 
which  first  excited  him  to  draw  his  sword  for  Scotland, 
though  it  may  be  thought  too  much  like  the  creation  of 
modern  romance,  is  recorded  as  a  fact  in  the  old  poem  of 
Blind  Harrie.  Other  private  events  have  been  interwoven 
with  the  public  subjects  of  these  volumes,  that  the  disagree- 


PREFACE.  ix 

able  monotony  of  a  continued  series  of  warlike  achieve- 
ments might  be  avoided.  Some  notes  are  added,  to  point 
out  the  historical  incidents ;  but  finding  that  were  they  all 
marked  such  a  plan  would  swell  each  volume  beyond  its 
proper  size,  in  one  word  I  assure  the  reader  that  I  seldom 
lead  him  to  any  spot  in  Scotland  whither  some  written  or 
oral  testimony  respecting  my  hero  had  not  previously  con- 
ducted myself.  In  the  same  spirit,  being  careful  to  keep  to 
the  line  of  chronology,  I  have  not  strayed  from  it  in  any 
instance  until  my  chief  personages  return  from  France; 
and  then  my  history  being  intended  to  be  within  the  bounds 
of  modern  romance,  and  not  to  rival  the  folios  of  Scuddry, 
I  found  myself  obliged  to  take  some  liberties  with  time  and 
circumstance,  —  for  both  of  which  offences,  and  particularly 
for  the  management  of  my  catastrophe,  I  hope  the  histori- 
cal, if  he  be  also  a  gentle,  reader  will  find  no  difficulty  in 
forgiving  me. 


Long  Ditton, 

December,  1809 


POSTSCRIPT  TO  THE  THIRD  EDITION. 


TN  dismissing  the  third  edition  of  "  The  Scottish  Chiefs  " 
-L  from  the  press,  its  author  will  not  deny  herself  the 
grateful  pleasure  of  expressing  her  sense  of  the  candor  with 
which  this  attempt  at  biographical  romance  has  been  gen- 
erally received.  That  amongst  these  liberal  approvers  are 
the  people  of  her  hero's  nation,  the  natives  of  the  country 
in  which  she  first  drew  the  aliments  of  intellectual  life,  can- 
not but  afford  a  peculiar  gratification  to  her  heart ;  and  she 
expresses  her  delight  on  the  occasion  with  the  feelings  of  a 
child  rejoicing  in  the  approbation  of  a  beloved  parent. 

While  she  thus  fondly  records  the  approval  of  her  own 
country,  she  cannot  but  proudly  add  to  the  gratifying  reg- 
ister the  reception  with  which  the  first  edition  of  "  The 
Scottish  Chiefs"  was  honored  in  France.  It  was  elegantly 
translated  by  a  man  of  letters  into  the  French  language, 
and  it  was  denied  publication  by  the  command  of  Buona- 
parte. That  an  Englishwoman's  narrative  of  a  Scottish 
patriot  struggling  for  the  liberty  of  his  country  and  dying 
in  its  cause  should  alarm  the  vigilance  of  the  tyrant  who  at 
that  time  had  subjected  all  countries  but  her  own,  is  a  cir- 
cumstance in  which  even  the  most  modest  mind  might  be 
allowed  to  see  some  honor;  and  the  biographer  of  William 
Wallace  trusts  that  such  honest  pride  may  not  be  blamed 
in  her.  She  writes  but  from  one  motive,  —  to  inspire  virtue 
into  the  hearts  of  her  youthful  readers ;  and  from  that  mo- 
tive she  cannot  be  insensible  to  the  reward  bestowed  on 
her  attempt,  by  its  reception  from  the  good  and  its  rejection 
from  the  wicked. 


xii  POSTSCRIPT. 

In  speaking  of  the  formation  of  public  principle  and 
manners,  Sir  Philip  Sidney  once  said,  "  Let  who  will  make 
the  laws  of  a  people ;  let  me  make  their  ballads,  and  I 
guide  them  as  I  will."  What  ballads  were  in  the  sixteenth 
century,  romances  are  now,  —  the  constant  companions  of 
the  people's  leisure  hours ;  and  by  their  precepts  and  ten- 
dency the  minds  of  our  youth  are  biassed  to  vice  or  formed 
to  virtue.  In  proportion,  then,  to  the  great  end  of  our 
labors  must  be  the  satisfaction  received  when  the  approba- 
tion of  the  wise  and  virtuous  pronounces  them  not  unworthy 
of  their  aim. 


Long  Ditton, 

March,  1816. 


CONTENTS   OF   VOLUME   L 


CHAPTER.  PAGE. 

I.  Douglas  Castle 15 

II.  Lanark 29 

III.  Ellerslie 44 

IV.  CoRiE  Lin 57 

V.  Lanark  Castle 65 

VI.  Carti.ane  Craigs .  68 

VII.  Bothwell  Castle 76 

VIII.  The  Chapel 82 

IX.  St.  Fillan's 87 

X.  The  Chapter-House loi 

XI.  Drumshargard 109 

XII.  Banks  of  the  Clyde 116 

XIII.  The  Pentland  Hills 126 

XIV.  The  Hut 131 

XV.  The  Glen  of  Stones 137 

XVI.  The  Hermit's  Cell "147 

XVII.  Glenfinlass 154 

XVIII.  Craignacoheilg 167 

XIX.  Cliffs  of  Loch  Lubnaig 173 

XX.  Loch  Lomond 179 

XXI.  Dumbarton  Rock      .         184 

XXII.  The  Fortress 190 

XXIII.  The  great  square  Tower 199 

XXIV.  The  Citadel 214 

XXV.  Renfrewshire 225 


xiv  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER.  PAGE. 

XXVI.     The  Frith  of  Clyde 231 

XXVII.    Isle  of  Bute 241 

XXVIII.    The  Barns  of  Ayr 254 

XXIX.  The  Barns  of  Ayr  {continued)     ....  262 

XXX.    Berwick  Castle 265 

XXXI.     Stirling 271 

XXXII.    Cambus-Kenneth 288 

XXXIII.  Stirling  Castle 297 

XXXIV.  The  Citadel 312 

XXXV.     The  Carse  of  Stirling 322 

XXXVI.    Snawdoun 329 

XXXVII.  Stirling  Castle:  The  Council  Hall    .  339 

XXXVIII.    The  Governor's  Apartments 346 

XXXIX.    The  State  Prison 356 

XL.    Chapel  in  Snawdoun .  361 

XLI.    The  Carse  of  Stirling 373 

XLII.    The  Cheviots 378 


THE  SCOTTISH   CHIEFS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

DOUGLAS    CASTLE. 

THE  war  which  had  desolated  Scotland  was  now  at  an 
end.  Ambition  seemed  satiated ;  and  the  vanquished, 
after  passing  under  the  yoke  of  their  enemy,  concluded  they 
might  wear  their  chains  in  peace.  Such  were  the  hopes  of 
those  Scottish  noblemen  who,  early  in  the  spring  of  1296, 
signed  the  bond  of  submission  to  a  ruthless  conqueror,  pur- 
chasing life  at  the  price  of  all  that  makes  life  estimable,  — 
liberty  and  honor. 

Prior  to  this  act  of  vassalage,  Edward  the  First  of  Eng- 
land had  entered  Scotland  at  the  head  of  an  immense 
army.  He  seized  Berwick  by  stratagem,  laid  the  country 
in  ashes,  and  on  the  field  of  Dunbar  forced  the  king  and 
his  nobles  to  acknowledge  him  their  liege  lord. 

While  the  courts  of  Edward  or  of  his  representatives 
were  crowded  by  the  humbled  Scots,  the  spirit  of  one 
brave  man  remained  unsubdued.  Disgusted  alike  at  the 
facility  with  which  the  sovereign  of  a  warlike  nation  could 
resign  his  people  and  his  crown  into  the  hands  of  a  treach- 
erous invader,  and  at  the  pusillanimity  of  the  nobles  who 
could  ratify  such  a  sacrifice,  William  Wallace  retired  to  the 
glen  of  Ellerslie.  Withdrawn  from  the  world,  he  hoped  to 
avoid  the  sight  of  oppressions  he  could  not  redress,  and  the 
endurance  of  injuries  beyond  his  power  to  avenge. 

Checked  at  the  opening  of  life  in  the  career  of  glory  that 
was  his  passion,  secluded  in  the  bloom  of  manhood  from 
the  social  haunts  of  men,  he  repressed  the  eager  aspirations 
of   his   mind,    and    strove  to  acquire   that   resignation   to 


1 6  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

inevitable  evils  which  could  alone  reconcile  him  to  forego 
the  promises  of  his  youth,  and  enable  him  to  view  with 
patience  a  humiliation  of  Scotland  which  blighted  her 
honor,  menaced  her  existence,  and  consigned  her  sons 
to  degradation  or  obscurity.  The  latter  was  the  choice  of 
Wallace.  Too  noble  to  bend  his  spirit  to  the  usurper, 
too  honest  to  affect  submission,  he  resigned  himself  to 
the  only  way  left  of  maintaining  the  independence  of  a 
true  Scot ;  and  giving  up  the  world  at  once,  all  the  ambi- 
tions of  youth  were  extinguished  in  his  breast,  since  noth- 
ing was  preserved  in  his  country  to  sanctify  their  fires. 
Scotland  seemed  proud  of  her  chains.  Not  to  share  in 
such  debasement  seemed  all  that  was  now  in  his  power; 
and  within  the  shades  of  Ellerslie  he  found  a  retreat  and 
a  home  whose  sweets  beguiled  him  of  every  care,  and  made 
him  sometimes  forget  the  wrongs  of  his  country  in  the 
tranquil  enjoyments  of  wedded  love. 

During  the  happy  months  of  the  preceding  autumn,  while 
Scotland  was  yet  free,  and  the  path  of  honorable  distinc- 
tion lay  open  before  her  young  nobility,  Wallace  married 
Marion  Braidfoot,  the  beautiful  heiress  of  Lammington. 
Of  the  same  age,  and  brought  up  from  childhood  together, 
reciprocal  affection  grew  with  their  growth ;  and  sympathy 
of  taste,  virtues,  and  mutual  tenderness  made  them  so 
entirely  one  that  when  at  the  age  of  twenty-two  the  enrap- 
tured lover  was  allowed  to  pledge  that  faith  publicly  at  the 
altar  which  he  had  so  often  vowed  to  his  Marion  in  secret, 
he  clasped  her  to  his  heart,  and  softly  whispered,  "  Dearer 
than  life,  part  of  my  being  now  and  forever !  blessed  is  this 
union  that  mingles  thy  soul  with  mine  to  all  eternity ! " 

Edward's  invasion  of  Scotland  broke  in  upon  their 
innocent  joys.  Wallace  threw  aside  the  wedding  garment 
for  the  cuirass  and  the  sword.  But  he  was  not  permitted 
to  use  either.  Scotland  submitted  to  her  enemies;  and  he 
had  no  alternative  but  to  bow  to  her  oppressors,  or  to 
become  an  exile  from  man  amid  the  deep  glens  of  his 
country. 

The  tower  of  Ellerslie  was  henceforth  the  lonely  abode 
of  himself  and  his  bride.  The  neighboring  nobles  avoided 
him,  because  the  principles  he  declared  were  a  tacit  re- 
proach on  their  proceedings ;  and  in  the  course  of  a  short 


DOUGLAS  CASTLE.  1 7 

time,  as  he  forbore  to  seek  them,  they  even  forgot  that  he 
was  in  existence.  Indeed,  all  occasions  of  mixino;  with 
society  lie  now  rejected.  The  hunting-spear,  with  which  he 
delighted  to  follow  the  flying  roebuck  from  glade  to  glade; 
the  arrows,  with  which  he  used  to  bring  down  the  heavy 
ptarmigan  or  the  towering  eagle, — -all  were  laid  aside. 
Scottisli  liberty  was  no  more ,  and  Wallace  would  have 
blushed  to  have  shown  himself  to  the  free-born  deer  of  his 
native  hills  in  communion  of  sports  with  the  spoilers  of  his 
country-.  Had  he  pursued  his  once  favorite  exercises,  he 
must  have  mingled  with  the  English  now  garrisoned  in 
every  town,  and  who  passed  their  hours  of  leisure  in  the 
chase. 

Being  resigned  to  bury  his  youth,  since  its  strength 
could  be  no  longer  servicealjle  to  his  country,  books,  his 
harp,  and  the  sweet  converse  of  his  tender  Marion  were 
the  occupations  of  his  days.  Ellershe  was  his  hermitage; 
and  there,  closed  from  the  world,  with  an  angel  his  com- 
panion, he  might  have  forgotten  Edward  was  lord  in 
Scotland  had  not  that  which  was  without  his  little  paradise 
made  a  way  to  its  gates,  and  showed  him  the  slavery  of  the 
nobles  and  the  wretchedness  of  the  people.  In  these  cases, 
his  generous  hand  gave  succor  where  it  could  not  bring 
redress.  Those  whom  the  lawless  plunderer  had  driven 
from  their  houses  or  stripped  of  their  covering  found 
shelter,  clothing,  and  food  at  the  house  of  Sir  WilHam 
Wallace. 

EUerslie  was  the  refuge  of  the  friendless  and  the  com- 
fort of  the  unhappy.  Wherever  Lady  Wallace  moved,  — 
whether  looking  out  from  her  window  on  the  accidental 
passenger,  or  taking  her  morning  or  moonlight  walks 
through  the  glen  leaning  on  the  arm  of  her  husband,  — 
she  had  the  rapture  of  hearing  his  steps  greeted  and  fol- 
lowed by  the  blessing  of  the  poor  destitute,  and  the  prayers 
of  them  who  were  ready  to  perish.  It  was  then  that  this 
happy  woman  would  raise  her  husband's  hand  to  her  lips, 
and  in  silent  adoration  thank  God  for  blessing  her  with  a 
being  made  so  truly  in  his  own  image. 

Wallace,  who  read  her  heart  in  this  action,  would  reply: 
"  Sweetest  Marion,  what  merit  has  thy  Wallace  in  mere 
benevolence.''     Contracted  is  now  my  sphere  of  duty,  and 
VOL  I.  —  2 


1 8  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

easily  fulfilled.  It  is  only  to  befriend  the  oppressed  to  the 
utmost  of  my  limited  power  ;  and  while  tyranny  leaves  me 
even  that,  I  shall  not  consider  myself  quite  a  slave.  Were 
I  useless  to  my  fellow-creatures,  I  should  be  miserable ;  for 
in  blessing  others,  I  bless  myself —  I  bless  thee,  my  Marion  ; 
and  the  grateful  countenances  of  these  poor  people  add 
beauty  even  to  thine.  Art  thou  not  loveliest  in  my  eyes  at 
this  moment,  thou  angel  of  peace  and  love  !  dost  thou  not 
praise  thy  husband  for  what  is  common  with  thee  ?  ' 

She  smiled,  and  a  happy  tear  glittered  in  her  eye. 
"  To  be  lovely  to  thee,  Wallace,  is  all  the  world  ,  and  to 
see  thee  so  worthy  of  all  my  love  fills  me  indeed  with  an 
angel's  happiness." 

Several  months  of  this  blissful  and  uninterrupted  soli- 
tude had  elapsed,  when  Lady  Wallace  saw  a  chieftain  at 
her  gate.  He  inquired  for  Sir  William,  requested  a  pri- 
vate conference,  and  retired  with  him  into  a  remote  room. 
They  remained  together  for  an  hour.  Wallace  then  came 
forth,  and  ordered  his  horse  and  four  servants  to  be  in 
readiness,  saying  he  meant  to  accompany  his  guest  to 
Douglas  castle.  When  he  embraced  his  wife  at  parting, 
he  told  her  that  as  Douglas  was  only  a  few  miles  distant, 
he  should  be  at  home  again  before  the  moon  rose 

She  passed  the  tedious  hours  of  his  absence  with  tran- 
quillity, till  the  appointed  signal  of  his  return  appeared 
from  behind  the  summits  of  the  opposite  mountains.  So 
bright  were  its  beams  that  Marion  did  not  need  any  other 
light  to  show  her  the  stealing  sands  of  her  hour-glass  as 
they  numbered  the  prolonged  hours  of  her  husband's  stay. 
She  dismissed  her  servants  to  their  rest,  —  all  excepting  Hal- 
bert,  the  gray-haired  harper  of  Wallace,  and  he,  like  her- 
self, was  too  unaccustomed  to  the  absence  of  his  master  to 
find  sleep  visit  his  eyes  while  Ellerslie  was  bereft  of  its  joy 
and  its  guard. 

As  the  night  advanced,  Lady  Wallace  sat  in  the  window 
of  her  bed-chamber,  which  looked  towards  the  west.  She 
watched  the  winding  pathway  that  led  from  Lanark  down 
the  opposite  heights,  eager  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  waving 
plumes  of  her  husband  when  he  should  emerge  from  behind 
the  hill  and  pass  under  the  thicket  which  overhung  the 
road.     How  often,  as  a  cloud  obscured  for  an  instant  the 


DOUGLAS  CASTLE.  1 9 

moon's  light,  and  threw  a  transitory  shade  across  the  path, 
did  her  heart  bound  with  the  thought  that  her  watching 
was  at  an  end !  It  was  he  whom  she  had  seen  start  from 
the  abrupt  rock!  they  were  the  folds  of  his  tartan  that 
darkened  the  white  cliff !  but  the  moon  again  rolled  through 
her  train  of  clouds,  and  threw  her  light  around.  Where 
was  then  her  Wallace  ?  Alas,  it  was  only  a  shadow  she 
had  seen  !  the  hill  was  still  lonely,  and  he  whom  she  sought 
was  yet  far  away !  Overcome  with  watching,  expectation, 
and  disappointment,  unable  to  say  whence  arose  her  fears, 
she  sat  down  again  to  look,  but  her  eyes  were  blinded  with 
tears  •  and  in  a  voice  interrupted  by  sighs  she  exclaimed, 
'■  Not  yet,  not  yet !  Ah,  my  Wallace,  what  evil  has  betided 
thee  ? " 

Trembling  with  a  nameless  terror,  she  knew  not  what  to 
dread.  She  believed  that  all  hostile  rencontres  had  ceased 
when  Scotland  no  longer  contended  with  Edward.  The 
nobles,  without  remonstrance,  had  surrendered  their  castles 
into  the  hands  of  the  usurper;  and  the  peasantry,  following 
the  example  of  their  lords,  had  allowed  their  homes  to  be 
ravaged  without  lifting  an  arm  in  their  defence.  Opposi- 
tion being  over,  nothing  could  threaten  her  husband  from 
the  enemy ;  and  was  not  the  person  who  had  taken  him 
from  Ellerslie  a  friend  ! 

Before  Wallace's  departure  he  had  spoken  to  Marion 
alone ;  and  he  told  her  that  the  stranger  was  Sir  John 
Monteith,  the  youngest  son  of  the  brave  Walter,  Lord 
Monteith,  ^  who  was  so  treacherously  put  to  death  by  the 
English  in  the  early  part  of  the  foregoing  year.  This 
young  nobleman  was  then  left  by  his  dying  father  to  the 
particular  charge  of  his  friend  William,  Lord  Douglas,  at 
that  time  governor  of  Berwick.  After  the  fall  of  that  place 
and  the  captivity  of  its  defender.  Sir  John  Monteith  had  re- 
turned to  Douglas  castle,  in  the  vicinity  of  Lanark,  and 

1  Walter  Stewart,  the  father  of  Sir  John  Monteith,  assumed  the  name 
and  earldom  of  Monteith  in  right  of  his  wife,  the  daughter  and  lieiress  of 
the  preceding  earl.  When  his  wife  died  he  married  an  Englisliwoman 
of  rank.  Lord  Monteith  being  ardently  attached  to  the  liberties  of  his 
country,  his  bride  found  means  to  cut  him  off  by  poison,  and  was  re- 
warded by  the  enemies  of  Scotland  for  this  treason  with  the  hand  of  an 
ancestor  of  the  Dakes  of  Bedford. 


20  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

was  now  the  sole  master  of  that  princely  residence.  Sir 
James  Douglas,  the  only  son  of  the  veteran  lord,  was  still 
at  Paris,  whither  he  had  gone  before  the  defeat  at  Dunbar 
to  negotiate  a  league  between  the  French  monarch  and  the 
then  King  of  Scots. 

Informed  of  the  privacy  in  which  Wallace  wished  to  live, 
Monteith  had  never  ventured  to  disturb  it  until  this  day; 
and  then,  knowing  the  steady  honor  of  his  old  school- 
companion,  he  came  to  entreat,  by  the  respect  he  enter- 
tained for  the  brave  Douglas  and  by  his  love  for  his 
country-,  that  he  would  not  refuse  to  accompany  him  that 
day  to  the  brave  exile's  castle. 

"I  have  a  secret  to  disclose  to  you,"  said  he,  "which 
cannot  be  divulged  on  any  other  spot." 

UnwiUing  to  deny  so  small  a  favor  to  the  son  of  one  who 
had  so  often  shed  his  blood  in  his  countrj-'s  service,  Wal- 
lace, as  has  been  said  before,  consented,  and  was  conducted 
by  Monteith  towards  Douglas. 

As  they  descended  the  heights  which  led  to  the  castle, 
Monteith  kept  a  profound  silence ,  and  when  they  crossed 
the  drawbridge  which  lay  over  the  water  at  its  base,  he  put 
his  finger  to  his  lips,  in  token  to  the  servants  for  equal 
taciturnity.  This  was  explained  as  they  entered  the  gate 
and  looked  around.  It  was  guarded  by  English  soldiers. 
Wallace  started,  and  would  have  drawn  back ;  but  Mon- 
teith laid  his  hand  on  his  arm  and  whispered,  "  For  your 
country ! "  At  these  words,  which  v;ere  a  spell  to  the  ear 
of  Wallace,  he  proceeded  ;  and  his  attendants  followed  into 
the  courtyard. 

The  sun  was  just  setting  as  Monteith  led  his  friend  into 
a  room  which  looked  towards  the  east.  Its  reflection  on 
the  distant  hills  reminded  Wallace  of  the  stretch  he  had  to 
retread,  to  reach  his  home  before  midnight :  and  thinking 
of  his  anxious  Marion,  he  awaited  with  impatience  the 
development  of  the  object  of  his  journey. 

Monteith  closed  the  door;  looked  fearfully  around  for 
some  time,  and  trembling  at  everv"  step,  approached  Wal- 
lace. When  drawn  quite  near,  in  a  low  voice  he  said, 
"You  must  swear  upon  the  cross  that  you  will  keep 
inviolable  the  secret  I  am  now  going  to  reveal." 

Wallace  put  aside  the  hilt  of  the  sword  which  Monteith 


DOUGLAS  CASTLE.  21 

presented  to  receive  his  oath.  "  No,"  said  he  with  a  smile, 
"  I  take  no  oaths.  In  these  times  I  would  not  bind  my 
conscience  on  subjects  that  I  do  not  know.  If  you  dare 
trust  the  word  of  a  Scotsman  and  a  friend,  speak  out;  and 
if  it  be  honest,  my  honor  is  your  pledge." 

"And  you  will  not  swear?" 

"  No." 

"  Then  I  must  not  trust  you." 

"Then  our  business  is  at  an  end,"  returned  Wallace, 
rising,  "and  I  may  return  home." 

"  Stop  !  "  cried  Monteith.  "  Forgive  me,  noble  Wallace, 
that  I  have  dared  to  hesitate !  These  are  indeed  times  of 
such  treason  to  honor  that  I  do  not  wonder  you  should  be 
careful  how  you  swear.  But  the  nature  of  the  confidence 
reposed  in  me  will,  I  hope,  convince  you  that  I  ought  not 
to  share  it  rashly.  Of  any  one  but  you,  whose  truth  stands 
fair  as  virgin  purity,  I  would  exact  oaths  on  oaths;  but 
your  word  is  given,  and  on  that  I  rely.     Await  me  here." 

Monteith  unlocked  a  door  which  had  been  concealed  by 
the  tapestry,  and  after  a  short  absence  re-entered  with  a 
small  iron  box.  He  set  it  hastily  on  the  table  near  his 
friend ;  then  went  to  the  great  door  which  he  had  before 
so  carefully  closed,  tried  that  the  bolts  were  secure,  and 
returned  with  a  still  more  pallid  countenance  towards  the 
table.  Wallace,  surprised  at  so  much  precaution  and  at 
the  extreme  apprehension  visible  in  these  actions,  awaited 
with  wonder  the  promised  explanation.  Monteith  sat  down 
with  his  hand  on  the  box,  and,  fixing  his  eyes  on  it, 
began : — 

"  I  am  going  to  mention  a  name  which  you  may  hear 
with  patience,  since  the  power  by  which  its  bearer  insulted 
you  is  no  more.  The  successful  rival  of  Bruce,  and  the 
enemy  of  your  family,  is  now  a  prisoner  in  the  Tower  of 
London." 

"  You  speak  of  Baliol  ? " 

"  I  do,"  answered  Monteith,  "  and  his  present  sufferings 
will  perhaps  soften  your  indignation  at  his  vindictive 
resentment  of  the  injury  he  received  from  Sir  Ronald 
Crawford." 

"  My  grandfather  never  injured  him  nor  any  man  ! " 
interrupted  Wallace.     "  Sir  Ronald  Crawford  was  ever  as 


22  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

incapable  of  injustice  as  of  flattering  the  minion  of  his 
countrj-'s  enemy.     But  BaHol  is  fallen,  and  I  forgive  him." 

"  Did  you  witness  his  degradation,"'  returned  Monteith, 
"  you  would  even  pity  him." 

"  He  was  always  an  object  of  my  pity,"  continued  Wal- 
lace. "  I  never  thought  him  worthy  of  a  stronger  sentiment ; 
and  as  you  seem  ignorant  of  the  cause  of  his  enmity  against 
Sir  Ronald  and  myself,  in  justice  to  the  character  of  that 
most  venerable  of  men  I  will  explain  it.  I  first  saw  Baliol 
four  years  ago,  when  I  accompanied  my  grandfather  to 
witness  the  arbitration  of  the  King  of  England  between 
the  two  contending  claimants  for  the  Scottish  crown.  Sir 
Ronald  came  on  the  part  of  Bruce.  I  was  deemed  too 
young  to  have  a  voice  in  the  council ;  but  I  was  old  enough 
to  understand  what  was  passing  there,  and  to  perceive  in 
the  crouching  demeanor  with  which  Baliol  received  the 
crown  that  it  was  the  price  for  which  he  sold  his  country. 
However,  as  Scotland  acknowledged  him  sovereign,  and  as 
Bruce  submitted,  my  grandfather  silently  acquiesced.  But 
Baliol  forgot  not  former  opposition.  His  behavior  to  Sir 
Ronald  and  myself  at  the  beginning  of  this  year,  when 
according  to  the  privilege  of  our  birth  we  appeared  in  the 
field  against  the  public  enemy,  fully  demonstrates  what  was 
the  itijury  Baliol  complains  of,  and  how  unjustly  he  drove 
us  from  the  standard  of  Scotland.  'None,'  said  he,  'shall 
sei-ve  under  me  who  ever  presumed  to  declare  themselves 
the  friends  of  Bruce  ! '  Poor,  weak  man  !  The  purchased 
vassal  of  England;  yet  enamored  of  his  ideal  throne,  he 
hated  all  who  had  opposed  his  elevation,  even  while  his 
own  treachery  sapped  its  foundation.  Edward  having  made 
use  of  him,  all  these  sacrifices  of  honor  and  of  conscience 
are  insufficient  to  retain  his  favor ;  and  BaHol  is  removed 
from  his  kingdom  to  an  English  prison  !  Can  I  feel  one 
revengeful  pang  against  a  wretch  so  abject  ?  No !  I  do 
indeed  pity  him.  And  now  that  I  have  cleared  my  grand- 
father's name  of  his  calumny,  I  am  ready  to  hear  you 
further." 

Monteith,  after  remarking  on  the  well-known  honor  of 
Sir  Ronald  Crawford,  resumed :  — 

"  During  the  massacre  at  the  capture  of  Berwick,  Lord 
Douglas,  wounded  and  insensible,  was  taken  by  a  trusty 


DOUGLAS  CASTLE.  2$ 

band  of  Scots  out  of  the  citadel  and  town.  I  followed  to 
Dunbar,  and  witnessed  with  him  that  day's  dreadful  loss, 
which  completed  the  victory  of  the  English.  When  the 
few  nobles  who  survived  the  battle  dispersed,  he  took  the 
road  to  Forfar,  hoping  to  meet  King  Baliol  there,  and  to 
concert  with  him  new  plans  of  resistance.  I  accompanied 
him.  When  we  arrived  we  found  his  Majesty  in  close 
conversation  with  John  Cummin,  Earl  of  Athol,  who  had 
persuaded  him  the  disaster  at  Dunbar  was  decisive;  and 
that  if  he  wished  to  save  even  his  life,  he  must  immediately 
go  to  the  King  of  England,  then  at  Montrose,  and  surrender 
himself  to  his  mercy.  ^ 

"  Our  brave  Douglas  tried  to  alter  Baliol's  resolution, 
but  without  effect.  The  king  only  wept  at  the  picture  our 
friend  drew  of  the  miseries  to  which  his  flight  would 
abandon  Scotland ;  he  could  not  return  any  reasonable 
answers  to  the  arguments  which  were  offered  to  induce 
him  to  remain,  but  continued  to  repeat,  with  sobs  and  tears, 
'  It  is  my  fate,  it  is  my  fate  ! '  Athol  sat  knitting  his  black 
brows  during  this  conversation ;  and  at  last,  throwing  out 
some  sullen  remarks  to  Lord  Douglas,  on  exhorting  the 
king  to  defy  his  liege  lord,  he  abruptly  left  the  room. 

"  As  soon  as  he  was  gone,  Baliol  rose  from  his  seat  with 
a  very  anxious  countenance,  and  taking  my  patron  into  an 
adjoining  room,  they  continued  there  a  few  minutes,  and 
then  re-entered,  Douglas  bearing  with  him  this  iron  box. 
'  Monteith,'  said  he,  '  I  confide  this  to  your  care.'  As  he 
spoke,  he  put  the  box  under  my  arm,  and  concealing  it 
with  my  cloak,  added,  '  Carry  it  directly  to  my  castle  in 
Lanarkshire.  I  will  rejoin  you  there  in  four  and  twenty 
hours  after  your  arrival.  Meanwhile,  by  your  affection  to 
me  and  fidelity  to  your  king,  breathe  not  a  word  of  what 
has  passed.' 

" '  Look  on  this  and  be  faithful,'  said  Baliol,  putting  this 
ruby  ring  on  my  finger.  I  withdrew,  and  as  I  crossed  the 
outward  hall,  was  met  by  Athol.  He  eyed  me  sternly,  and 
inquired  whither  I  was  going.  I  replied,  '  To  Douglas,  to 
prepare  for  the  coming  of  its  lord.'     The  hall  was  full  of 

1  This  treacherous  Scot,  who  persuaded  Baliol  to  his  ruin,  was  John 
Cummin,  of  Strathbogie,  Earl  of  Athol  in  right  of  his  wife,  the  heiress 
of  that  earldom. 


24  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

armed  men  in  Athol's  colors.  Not  one  of  the  remnant  who 
had  followed  my  patron  from  the  bloody  field  of  Dunbar 
was  visible.  Athol  looked  round  on  his  myrmidons :  'Here,' 
cried  he,  'see  that  you  speed  this  fellow  on  his  journey. 
We  shall  provide  lodgings  for  his  master.'  I  foresaw  dan- 
ger to  Lord  Douglas,  but  I  durst  not  attempt  to  warn  him 
of  it ;  and  to  secure  my  charge,  which  a  return  to  the  room 
might  have  hazarded,  I  hastened  into  the  courtyard,  and 
being  permitted  to  mount  my  horse,  set  off  at  full  speed. 

"  I  arrived  at  this  place  on  the  second  day,  and  remem- 
bering that  secret  closet,  carefully  deposited  the  box  within 
it.  A  week  passed  without  any  tidings  of  Lord  Douglas. 
At  last  a  pilgrim  appeared  at  the  gate,  and  requested  to 
see  me  alone ;  fearing  nothing  from  a  man  in  so  sacred  a 
habit,  I  admitted  him.  Having  presented  me  with  a  packet 
which  had  been  intrusted  to  him  by  Lord  Douglas,  he  told 
me  that  my  brave  friend  had  been  forcibly  carried  on  board 
a  vessel  at  Montrose,  to  be  conveyed  with  the  unhappy 
Baliol  to  the  Tower  of  London.  Douglas  sent  to  the  mon- 
astery at  Aberbrothick,  and  under  a  pretence  of  making 
a  religious  confession  before  he  sailed,  begged  a  visit  from 
the  sub-prior.  '  I  am  that  prior,'  continued  the  pilgrim ; 
'and  having  been  born  on  the  Douglas  lands,  he  well 
knew  he  had  every  claim  to  my  fidelity.  He  gave  me  this 
packet,  and  conjured  me  to  lose  no  time  in  conveying  it 
to  you.  The  task  was  difficult;  and  as  in  these  calami- 
tous seasons  we  know  not  whom  to  trust,  I  determined  to 
execute  it  myself.' 

"  I  inquired  of  the  reverend  father  whether  Lord  Douglas 
had  actually  sailed.  'Yes,'  replied  he,  'I  stood  on  the 
beach  till  the  ship  disappeared!'" 

A  half-stifled  groan  burst  from  the  indignant  breast  of 
Wallace.  It  interrupted  Monteith  for  an  instant,  but  not 
appearing  to  notice  it,  he  proceeded. 

"Not  only  the  brave  Douglas  was  then  wrested  from 
our  country,  but  our  king,  and  that  holy  pillar  of  Jacob,i 
which  prophets  have  declared  the  palladium  of  Scotland  !  " 

'  The  tradition  respecting  this  stone  is  as  follows:  Hiber,  or  Iber, 
who  came  from  the  Holy  Land  to  inhabit  the  coasts  of  Spain,  brought 
this  sacred  relic  along  with  him.  From  Spain  he  transplanted  it  with 
the  colony  he  sent  to  people  the  south  of  Ireland ;  and  from  Ireland  it 


DOUGLAS  CASTLE  2$ 

"What?"  inquired  Wallace,  with  a  frown;  "has  BaUol 
robbed  Scotland  of  that  trophy  of  one  of  her  best  kings  ? 
Is  the  sacred  gift  of  Fergus  to  be  made  the  spoil  of  a 
coward  ?  " 

"  Baliol  is  not  the  robber,"  rejoined  Monteith ;  "  the  hal- 
lowed pillar  was  taken  from  Scone  by  the  command  of  the 
King  of  England,  and,  with  the  sackings  of  lona,  was 
carried  on  board  the  same  vessel  with  the  betrayed  Douglas. 
The  archives  of  the  kingdom  have  also  been  torn  from  their 
sanctuary',  and  thrown  by  Edward's  own  hands  into  the 
fire." 

"  Tyrant ! "  exclaimed  Wallace,  "  thou  may'st  fill  the  cup 
too  full ! " 

"  His  depredations,"  continued  Monteith,  "  the  good  monk 
told  me,  have  been  as  wide  as  they  are  destructive.  He 
has  not  left  a  parchment,  either  of  public  records  or  of 
private  annals,  in  any  of  the  monasteries  or  castles  around 
Montrose;  all  have  been  searched  and  plundered.  And 
besides,  the  faithless  Earl  of  March  and  Lord  Soulis  are 
such  parricides  of  their  country  as  to  be  his  emissaries,  and 
have  performed  the  like  robberies  from  the  eastern  shores 
of  the  Highlands  to  the  farthest  of  the  Western  Isles." 

"  Do  the  traitors  think,"  cried  Wallace,  "  that  by  robbing 
Scotland  of  her  annals  and  of  that  stone  they  really  deprive 
her  of  her  palladium  ?  Scotland's  history  is  in  the  memo- 
ries of  her  sons ;  her  palladium  is  in  their  hearts ;  and  Ed- 
ward may  one  day  find  that  she  remembers  the  victory  of 
Largs,  ^  and  needs  not  talismans  to  give  her  freedom." 

"Alas!  not  in  our  time,"  answered  Monteith.  "The 
spear  is  at  our  breasts,  and  we  must  submit.  You  see  this 
castle  is  full  of  Edward's  soldiers !  Every  house  is  a  garri- 
son for  England  —  but  more  of  this  by  and  by;    I  have  yet 

was  brought  into  Scotland  by  the  great  Fergus,  the  son  of  Ferchard. 
He  placed  it  in  Argyleshire ;  but  Mac-Alpine  removed  it  to  Scone,  and 
fixed  it  in  the  royal  chair  in  which  all  the  succeeding  kings  of  Scotland 
were  inaugurated.  Edward  the  First  of  England  caused  it  to  be  carried 
to  Westminster  abbey,  where  it  now  stands. 

1  This  battle  was  fought  by  Alexander  III.,  on  the  first  of  August, 
1263,  against  Acho,  King  of  Norway.  That  monarch  invaded  Scotland 
with  a  large  army,  and  drew  up  his  forces  before  Largs,  a  town  in  Ayr- 
shire. He  met  with  a  great  defeat,  and,  covered  with  disgrace,  retired  to 
his  own  country. 


26  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

to  tell  you  the  contents  of  the  packet  which  the  monk 
brought.  It  contained  two,  —  one  directed  to  Sir  James 
Douglas,  at  Paris,  and  the  other  to  me.  It  read  as 
follows :  — 

Athol  has  persuaded  Baliol  to  his  ruin,  and  betrayed  me  into 
the  hands  of  Edward.  I  shall  see  Scotland  no  more.  Send  the 
enclosed  to  my  son,  at  Paris  ;  it  will  inform  him  what  is  the  last 
wish  of  William  Douglas  for  his  country.  The  iron  box  I  con- 
fided to  you,  guard  as  your  life  until  you  can  deposit  it  with  my 
son.  But  should  he  remain  abroad,  and  you  ever  be  in  extremity, 
commit  the  box  in  strict  charge  to  the  worthiest  Scot  you  know ; 
and  tell  him  that  it  will  be  at  the  peril  of  his  soul  who  dares  to 
open  it  till  Scotland  be  again  free  !  When  that  hour  comes, then 
let  the  man  by  whose  valor  God  restores  her  rights  receive  the 
box  as  his  own  ;  for  by  him  only  is  it  to  be  opened. 

Douglas. 

Monteith  finished  reading  the  letter,  and  remained  silent. 
Wallace,  who  had  listened  to  it  with  increasing  indignation 
against  the  enemies  of  Scotland,  spoke  first:  "Tell  me  in 
what  I  can  assist  you,  or  how  serve  these  last  wishes  of  the 
brave  Douglas?" 

Monteith  replied  by  reading  over  again  this  sentence : 
" '  Should  my  son  remain  abroad,  and  you  ever  be  in  ex- 
tremity, commit  the  box  in  strict  charge  to  the  worthiest 
Scot  you  know.'  I  am  in  that  extremity  now.  Edward 
determined  on  desolation  when  he  placed  English  governors 
throughout  our  towns;  and  the  rapacious  Heselrigge,  his 
representative  in  Lanark,  is  not  backward  to  execute  the 
despot's  will.  He  has  just  issued  an  order  for  the  houses 
of  all  the  absent  chiefs  to  be  searched  for  records  and 
secret  correspondences.  Two  or  three  in  the  neighborhood 
have  already  gone  through  this  ordeal ;  and  the  event  has 
proved  that  it  was  not  papers  they  sought,  but  plunder, 
and  an  excuse  for  dismantling  the  castles  or  occupying 
them  with  English  ofificers. 

"  A  detachment  of  soldiers  were  sent  by  daybreak  this 
morning  to  guard  this  castle,  until  Heselrigge  could  in  per- 
son be  present  at  the  examination.  This  ceremony  is  to 
take  place  to-morrow;  and  as  Lord  Douglas  is  considered 
a  traitor  to  Edward,  I  am  told  the  place  will  be  sacked  to 


DOUGLAS  CASTLE.  2/ 

its  walls.  In  such  an  extremity,  to  you,  noble  Wallace,  as 
to  the  worthiest  Scot  I  know,  I  fly  to  take  charge  of  this 
box.  Within  the  remote  cliffs  of  Ellerslie  it  must  be  safe ; 
and  when  Sir  James  Douglas  arrives  from  Paris,  to  him 
you  will  resign  it.  Meanwhile,  as  I  cannot  resist  the  plun- 
derers, after  delivering  the  keys  of  the  state  apartments  to 
Heselrigge  to-morrow,  I  will  submit  to  necessity,  and  beg 
his  permission  to  retire  to  my  fortalice  on  Ben  Venu." 

Wallace  made  no  difficulty  in  granting  Monteith's  re- 
quest ;  and  desiring  that  when  he  found  means  to  forward 
Lord  Douglas's  packet  to  his  son,  he  would  inform  that 
young  nobleman  of  the  circumstances  which  had  deposited 
the  box  in  Ellerslie,  he  proposed  to  depart  immediately. 
There  being  two  iron  rings  on  each  side  his  charge,  Wallace 
took  off  his  leathern  belt,  and  putting  it  through  them, 
swung  the  box  easily  under  his  left  arm,  and  covered  it 
with  his  plaid. 

Monteith's  eyes  now  brightened,  the  paleness  left  his 
cheek ;  and  with  a  firmer  step,  as  if  suddenly  relieved  of  a 
heavy  load,  he  called  a  servant  to  prepare  Sir  William 
Wallace's  attendants. 

As  Wallace  shook  hands  with  his  friend,  Monteith,  in  a 
low  and  solemn  voice,  exhorted  him  to  caution  respecting 
the  box.  "  Remember,"  added  he,  "  the  penalty  that  hangs 
over  him  who  looks  into  it." 

"  Be  not  afraid,"  answered  Wallace ;  "  even  the  outside 
shall  never  be  seen  by  other  eyes  than  my  own,  unless  the 
same  circumstance  which  now  induces  you,  mortal  extrem- 
ity, should  force  me  to  confide  it  to  safer  hands." 

"Beware  of  that!"  exclaimed  Monteith,  "for  who  is 
there  that  would  adhere  to  the  prohibition  as  I  have  done, 
as  you  will  do  ?  and,  besides,  as  I  have  no  doubt  it  contains 
holy  rehcs,  who  knows  what  new  calamities  a  sacrilegious 
look  might  bring  upon  our  already  devoted  country." 

"  Relics  or  no  relics,"  replied  Wallace,  "  it  would  be  an 
equal  sin  against  good  faith  to  invade  what  is  forbidden ; 
but  from  the  weight  I  am  rather  inclined  to  suspect  it  con- 
tains gold,  —  probably  a  treasure,  with  which  the  sordid 
Baliol  thinks  to  compensate  the  hero  who  may  free  his 
country  for  all  the  miseries  a  traitor  king  and  a  treacherous 
usurper  have  brought  upon  it." 


28  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

"  A  treasure  !  "  repeated  Monteith,  "  I  never  thought  of 
that.  It  is  indeed  very  heavy  !  As  we  are  responsible  for 
the  contents  of  the  box,  I  -wish,  we  were  certain  of  what  it 
contains ;  let  us  consider  that !  " 

"It  is  no  consideration  of  ours,"  returned  Wallace. 
"  With  what  is  in  the  box  we  have  no  concern ;  all  we 
have  to  do  is  to  preserve  the  contents  unviolated  by  even 
our  own  eyes ;  and  to  that,  as  you  have  now  transferred  the 
charge  to  me,  I  pledge  myself.     Farewell." 

"  But  why  this  haste  ? "  rejoined  Monteith  ;  "  indeed  I 
wish  I  had  thought —     Stay  only  a  little." 

"  I  thank  you,"  returned  Wallace,  proceeding  to  the  court- 
yard, "  but  it  is  now  dark,  and  I  promised  to  be  at  home 
before  the  moon  rises.  If  you  wish  me  to  serve  you  further, 
I  shall  be  happy  to  see  you  at  Ellerslie  to-morrow.  My 
Marion  will  have  pleasure  in  entertaining  for  days  or  weeks 
the  friend  of  her  husband." 

While  Wallace  spoke  he  advanced  to  his  horse,  to  which 
he  was  lighted  by  the  servants  of  the  castle.  A  few  English 
soldiers  lingered  about  in  idle  curiosity.  As  he  put  his  foot 
in  the  stirrup,  he  held  in  his  hand  the  sword  he  had  un- 
buckled from  his  side  to  leave  room  for  his  charge.  Mon- 
teith, whose  dread  of  detection  was  ever  awake,  whispered, 
"  A  weapon  in  your  hand  will  excite  suspicion ! "  Fear 
incurred  what  it  sought  to  avoid.  He  hastily  pulled  aside 
Wallace's  plaid  to  throw  it  over  the  glittering  hilt  of  the 
sword,  and  exposed  the  iron  box.  The  light  of  the  torches, 
striking  upon  the  polished  rivets,  displayed  it  to  all  eyes ; 
but  no  remark  was  made ;  and  Wallace,  not  observing  what 
was  done,  again  shook  hands  with  Monteith,  and  calling 
his  servants  about  him,  galloped  away.  Being  obliged  to 
leave  the  open  and  direct  road,  because  of  the  English 
marauders  who  swarmed  there,  he  was  presently  lost  amid 
the  thick  shades  of  Clydesdale. 


LANARK.  29 


CHAPTER   II. 

LANARK. 

THE  darkness  was  almost  impenetrable.  Musing  on 
what  had  passed  with  Monteith,  and  on  the  little 
likelihood  of  any  hero  appearing  who,  by  freeing  his  coun- 
try, could  ever  claim  the  privilege  of  investigating  the  mys- 
tery which  was  now  his  care,  Wallace  rode  on,  till,  crossing 
the  bridge  of  Lanark,  he  saw  the  rising  moon  silver  the  tops 
of  the  distant  hills,  and  then  his  meditations  embraced  a 
gentler  subject.  This  was  the  time  he  had  promised  Marion 
to  be  returned ;  and  he  had  yet  five  long  miles  to  go  before 
he  could  reach  the  glen  of  Ellerslie.  He  thought  of  her 
being  alone,  —  of  watching,  with  an  anxious  heart,  the 
minutes  of  his  delay.  Scotland  and  its  wrongs  he  forgot 
in  the  idea  of  her  whose  happiness  was  dearer  to  him  than 
life.  He  could  not  achieve  the  deliverance  of  the  one,  but 
it  was  his  bliss  to  preserve  the  peace  of  the  other;  and 
putting  spurs  to  his  horse,  under  the  now  bright  beams  of 
the  moon,  he  hastened  through  the  town. 

Abruptly  turning  an  angle  leading  to  the  Mouse  River, 
a  cry  of  murder  arrested  his  ear.  He  checked  his  horse, 
and  listened.  The  clashing  of  arms  told  him  the  sound 
had  issued  from  an  alley  to  the  left.  He  alighted  in  an 
instant,  and  drawing  his  sword,  threw  away  the  scabbard 
(prophetic  omen!)  ;  then  leaving  his  horse  with  one  of  his 
servants,  hastened  with  the  other  three  to  the  spot  whence 
the  noise  proceeded. 

On  arriving  he  discovered  two  men  in  tartans,  with  their 
backs  to  the  opposite  wall,  furiously  assaulted  by  a  throng 
of  Edward's  soldiers.  At  this  sight,  the  Scots  who  accom- 
panied Wallace  were  so  enraged,  that,  blowing  their  bugles 
to  encourage  the  assailed,  they  joined  hand  to  hand  with 
their  gallant  leader,  and  attacking  the  banditti,  each  man 
cut  his  opponent  to  the  ground. 

Such  unexpected  assistance  reanimated  the  drooping 
strength  of  one  of  the  two  from  whom  the  cry  had  issued. 


30  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

He  sprung  from  the  wall  with  the  vigor  of  a  tiger,  but  at 
the  moment  received  a  wound  in  his  back  which  would  have 
thrown  him  into  the  hands  of  his  enemies  had  not  Wallace 
caught  him  in  his  left  arm,  and  with  his  right  cleared  the 
way,  while  he  cried  to  his  men  who  were  fighting  near 
him,  "  To  the  Glen ! "  As  he  spoke,  he  threw  the  now 
insensible  stranger  into  their  arms.  The  other  man,  whose 
voice  had  first  attracted  Wallace,  at  that  instant  fell  covered 
with  blood  at  his  feet. 

Two  of  the  servants,  having  obeyed  their  master,  had 
carried  their  senseless  burden  towards  the  horses ;  but  the 
third,  being  hemmed  in  by  the  furious  soldiers,  could  not 
move.  Wallace  made  a  passage  to  his  rescue,  and  effected 
it;  but  one  base  wretch,  as  the  poor  wounded  man  was 
retreating,  made  a  stroke  which  would  have  severed  his 
head  from  his  body,  had  not  the  trusty  claymore  of  Wallace 
struck  down  the  pending  weapon  of  the  coward,  and  re- 
ceived his  rushing  body  upon  its  point.  He  fell  with  bitter 
imprecations,  calling  aloud  for  vengeance. 

A  dreadful  cry  was  now  raised  by  the  whole  band  of 
assassins :  "  Murder !  treason  !  Arthur  Heselrigge  is  slain  !  " 
The  uproar  became  general.  The  windows  of  the  adjoin- 
ing houses  were  thrown  open ;  people  armed  and  unarmed 
issued  from  their  doors,  and  pressed  forward  to  inquire  the 
cause  of  the  alarm.  Wallace  was  nearly  overpowered ;  a 
hundred  swords  flashed  in  the  torch-light ;  but  at  the  mo- 
ment he  expected  they  would  be  sheathed  in  his  heart,  the 
earth  gave  way  under  his  feet,  and  he  sunk  into  utter 
darkness. 

He  fell  upon  a  quantity  of  gathered  broom ;  and  con- 
cluding that  the  weight  of  the  thronging  multitude  had 
burst  his  way  through  the  arch  of  a  cellar,  he  sprung  on  his 
feet ;  and  though  he  heard  the  curses  of  several  wretches 
who  had  fallen  with  him  and  fared  worse,  he  made  but  one 
step  to  a  half-opened  door,  pointed  out  to  him  by  a  gleam 
from  an  inner  passage.  The  men  uttered  a  shout  as  they 
saw  him  darken  the  light  which  glimmered  through  it,  but 
they  were  incapable  of  pursuit ;  and  Wallace,  aware  of  his 
danger,  darting  across  the  adjoining  apartment,  burst  open 
the  window  and  leaped  out  at  the  foot  of  the  Lanark  hills. 

The  oaths  of  the  soldiers,  enraged  at  his  escape,  echoed 


LANARK.  3 1 

in  his  ears  till  distance  sunk  them  into  hoarse  murmurs. 
He  pursued  his  way  over  the  craigs,  through  the  valley,  and 
across  the  river,  to  the  cliffs  which  embattle  the  garden  of 
Ellerslie.  Springing  on  the  projecting  point  of  the  nearest, 
he  leaped  into  a  thicket  of  honej'suckles.  This  was  the 
favorite  bower  of  his  Marion!  The  soft  perfume,  as  it 
saluted  his  senses,  seemed  to  breathe  peace  and  safety ; 
and  as  he  emerged  from  its  fragrant  embrace,  he  walked 
with  a  calmer  step  towards  the  house.  He  approached  the 
door  which  led  into  the  garden.  It  was  open.  He  beheld 
his  beloved  leaning  over  a  couch  on  which  was  laid  the 
person  he  had  rescued.     H albert  was  dressing  his  wounds. 

Wallace  paused  for  a  moment  to  contemplate  his  lovely 
wife  in  this  more  lovely  act  of  charity.  Her  beautiful 
hands  held  a  cup  to  the  lips  of  the  stranger,  while  her 
long  hair,  escaped  from  its  band,  fell  in  jetty  ringlets  and 
mingled  with  his  silver  locks. 

"  Marion  !  "  exclaimed  the  overflowing  soul  of  her  hus- 
band. She  looked  up  at  the  well-known  sound,  and  with  a 
cry  of  joy  rushed  forward  and  threw  herself  into  his  arms  ; 
her  tears  flowed,  she  sobbed,  she  clung  to  his  breast.  It 
was  the  first  time  that  Wallace  had  been  from  her ;  she 
had  feared  it  would  have  been  the  last.  The  hour,  the 
conflict,  the  bleeding  stranger !  But  now  he  was  returned, 
he  was  safe  ! 

'•  Art  thou  indeed  here  ? "  exclaimed  she.  Blood  fell 
from  his  forehead  upon  her  face  and  bosom  ;  "  Oh,  my 
Wallace  !  "  cried  she,  in  agony. 

"  Fear  not,  my  love.  All  is  well,  since  the  wounded 
stranger  is  safe." 

"  But  you  bleed  !  "  returned  she.  No  tears  now  impeded 
her  voice.  Terror  had  checked  their  joyful  currents  ;  and 
she  felt  as  if  she  expected  the  life-blood  to  issue  from  the 
wound  on  which  she  gazed. 

"  I  hope  my  preserver  is  not  mortally  hurt  ?  "  inquired 
the  stranger. 

"  Oh,  no,"  replied  Wallace,  putting  back  the  hair  from 
his  forehead  ;  "  a  mere  trifle  !  "  That  the  action  had  dis- 
covered the  gash  to  be  wider  than  he  thought,  he  saw  in 
the  countenance  of  his  wife.  She  turned  deadly  pale. 
"  Marion,"  said  he,  "  to  convince  you  how  causeless  are 


32  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

your  fears,  you  shall  cure  me  yourself ;  and  with  no  other 
surgery  than  your  girdle  !  " 

When  Lady  Wallace  heard  his  gay  tone,  and  saw  the 
unforced  smiles  on  his  lips,  she  took  courage  ;  and  remem- 
bering the  deep  wounds  of  the  stranger,  which  she  had  just 
assisted  to  dress  without  any  alarm  for  his  life,  she  began 
to  hope  that  she  need  not  now  fear  for  the  object  dearest  to 
her  in  existence.  Rising  from  her  husband's  arms,  with  a 
languid  smile  she  unbound  the  linen  fillet  from  her  waist ; 
and  H  albert  having  poured  some  balsam  into  the  wound, 
she  prepared  to  apply  the  bandage ;  but  when  she  lifted 
her  husband's  hair  from  his  temple,  —  that  hair  which  had  so 
often  been  the  object  of  her  admiration  as  it  hung  in  shin- 
ing masses  over  his  arching  brows,  —  when  the  clotted  blood 
met  her  fingers,  a  mist  seemed  to  pass  over  her  sight.  She 
paused  for  a  moment,  but  rallying  her  strength  as  the  cheer- 
ful sound  of  his  voice  conversing  with  his  guest  assured 
her  fear  was  groundless,  she  tied  the  fillet ;  and  stealing  a 
soft  kiss  on  his  cheek  as  she  finished,  seated  herself,  yet 
trembling,  by  his  side. 

"  Gallant  Wallace,"  continued  the  stranger,  for  agitation 
had  prevented  her  hearing  what  had  been  said  before,  "  it 
is  Donald,  Earl  of  Mar,  who  owes  to  you  his  life." 

"  Then  blessed  be  my  arm,"  exclaimed  Wallace,  "  that 
has  preserved  a  life  so  precious  to  my  country  !  " 

"  May  it  indeed  be  blessed  !  "  cried  Lord  Mar,  "  for  this 
night  it  has  made  the  Southrons  feel  there  is  yet  one  man 
in  Scotland  who  does  not  fear  to  resist  oppression  and  to 
punish  treachery." 

"  What  treachery  ?  "  inquired  Lady  Wallace,  her  alarmed 
spirit  still  hovering  about  her  soul's  far  dearer  part ;  "  is 
any  meant  to  my  husband  ?  " 

"  None  to  Sir  William  Wallace  more  than  to  any  other 
brave  Scot,"  replied  the  earl.  "  But  we  all  see  the  oppres- 
sion of  our  country,  we  all  know  the  treachery  by  which  it 
was  subjugated ;  and  this  night,  in  my  own  person,  I  have 
felt  the  effects  of  both.  The  English,  at  Lanark,  dispatched 
a  body  of  men  to  Bothwell  castle  (where  my  family  now 
are)  on  a  plea,  that,  as  its  lord  is  yet  absent,  they  presume 
he  is  adverse  to  Edward,  and  therefore  they  must  search 
his  dwelling  for  documents  to  settle  the  point.     Considering 


LANARK.  33 

myself  the  representative  of  my  brother-in-law,  Lord  Both- 
well,  and  suspecting  that  this  might  be  only  a  private 
marauding  party,  1  refused  to  admit  the  soldiers;  and 
saw  them  depart,  swearing  to  return  the  next  day  with  a 
stronger  force  and  storm  the  castle.  To  be  ascertained  of 
their  commission,  and  to  appeal  against  sucii  unprovoked 
tyranny  should  it  be  true,  I  followed  the  detachment  to 
Lanark. 

"  I  saw  Heselrigge  the  governor.  He  avowed  the  trans- 
action ;  but  awed  by  the  power  which  he  thinks  I  possess 
in  the  country,  he  consented  to  spare  Bothwell  while  I  and 
my  family  remain  in  it.  It  being  nearly  dark,  I  took  my 
leave;  and  was  proceeding  towards  my  servants  in  tha 
courtyard,  when  a  young  man  accosted  me.  I  recognized 
him  to  be  the  officer  who  had  commanded  the  party  I  had 
driven  from  the  castle.  Heselrigge  having  tokl  me  that  he 
was  his  nephew,  I  made  no  hesitation  to  go  back  with  him, 
when  he  informed  me  his  uncle  had  forgotten  something  of 
importance,  and  begged  me  to  return.  I  followed  his  steps ; 
but  instead  of  conducting  me  to  the  room  in  which  I  had 
conversed  with  Heselrigge,  he  led  me  along  a  dark  passage 
into  a  small  apartment,  where,  telling  me  his  uncle  would 
attend  me,  he  suddenly  retreated  out  of  the  door,  and  before 
I  could  re-collect  myself  I  heard  him  bolt  it  after  him. 

"  I  now  saw  myself  a  prisoner ;  and  alarmed  at  what 
might  be  intendecl  to  my  defenceless  family,  I  made  every 
essay  to  force  the  door;  but  it  was  in  vain.  Driven  to 
despair,  1  was  in  a  state  of  mind  not  to  be  described,  when 
the  bolt  was  undrawn,  and  two  men  entered  with  manacles 
in  their  hands.  They  attempted  to  seize  me,  telling  me  I 
was  the  prisoner  of  King  Edward.  I  listened  not  to  what 
they  said,  but  wounding  one  with  my  dagger,  I  felled  the 
other  to  the  ground ;  and  darting  past  him,  made  my  way 
through  what  passages  I  cannot  tell,  till  I  found  myself  in 
a  street  leading  from  behind  the  governor's  house.  I  ran 
against  some  one  as  I  rushed  from  the  portal;  it  was  my 
servant  Neil.  I  hastily  told  him  to  draw  his  sword  and 
follow  me.  We  then  hurried  forward,  he  telling  me  he  had 
stepped  out  to  observe  the  night,  while  the  rest  of  my  men 
were  awaiting  me  in  the  house,  wondering  at  my  delay. 

"  Rejoiced  at  my  escape,  and  fearing  the  worst  of  conse- 

VOL.   I.  —  3 


34  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

quences  from  the  visit  of  Heselrigge  and  his  miscreants  at 
Bothwell  castle,  I  was  hastening  onward,  determined  to 
pursue  my  way  on  foot  to  the  protection  of  my  family, 
when,  at  the  turning  of  an  angle  which  leads  to  the  Bothwell 
road,  we  were  suddenly  surrounded  by  armed  men.  The 
moon  shone  full  on  their  faces,  and  I  discovered  they 
were  Southrons,  and  that  young  Heselrigge  was  at  their 
head. 

"  He  aimed  a  blow  at  my  head  with  his  battle-axe,  and 
in  a  voice  of  triumph  exclaimed  to  his  soldiers,  '  The  plun- 
der of  Bothwell,  my  lads !  down  with  its  lord,  and  all  but 
the  lovely  Helen  shall  be  yours!' 

"  In  a  moment,  every  sword  was  directed  towards  me. 
They  wounded  me  in  several  places ;  but  the  thought  of 
my  daughter  gave  supernatural  vigor  to  my  arm,  and  I 
defended  myself  till  the  cries  of  my  dying  servant  brought 
you,  my  brave  deliverer,  to  my  rescue.  But  while  I  am  safe, 
perhaps  my  treacherous  pursuer  has  marched  towards  Both- 
well,  too  sure  to  commit  the  horrid  violence  he  meditates : 
there  are  none  to  guard  my  child  but  a  few  domestics,  the 
unpractised  sword  of  my  stripling  nephew,  and  the  feeble 
arms  of  my  wife." 

"  Be  easy  on  that  head,"  interrupted  Wallace.  "  I  be- 
lieve the  infamous  leader  of  the  banditti  fell  by  my  hand ; 
for  the  soldiers  made  an  outcry  that  Arthur  Heselrigge 
was  killed,  and  then  pressing  on  me  to  take  revenge,  their 
weight  broke  a  passage  into  a  vault  through  which  I 
escaped  —  " 

"Save,  save  yourself,  my  master!"  cried  a  man  rushing 
in  from  the  garden  ;  "  you  are  pursued  !  save,  save  —  " 
While  he  spoke,  he  fell  insensible  at  Wallace's  feet.  The 
chief  perceived  it  was  Dugald,  he  whom  he  had  rescued 
from  the  blow  of  Heselrigge,  and  who,  from  the  bleeding 
of  his  wounds  and  consequent  debility,  had  been  all  this 
while  reaching  EUerslie. 

Wallace  had  hardly  time  to  give  him  to  the  care  of 
Halbert,  when  the  voice  of  war  assailed  his  ears.  The 
outcry  of  men  demanding  admittance,  and  the  terrific 
sounds  of  spears  rattling  against  the  shields  of  their 
owners,  told  the  astonished  group  within  that  the  house 
was  beset  by  armed  men. 


LANARK.  35 

••  Blood  for  blood  !  "  cried  a  horrid  voice,  which  pene- 
trated the  almost  palsied  senses  of  Lady  Marion ;  "  Ven- 
geance on  Wallace  for  the  murder  of  Heselrigge ! " 

"  Fly  !  fly !  "  cried  she,  looking  wildly  at  her  husband. 

"Whither?"  answered  he,  supporting  her  in  his  arms. 
"  Would  this  be  a  moment  to  leave  you  and  our  wounded 
guest?     I  must  meet  them." 

"Not  now,"  cried  Lord  Mar;  "hear  you  not  by  the 
uproar  how  numerous  they  are?  Mark  that  shout;  they 
thirst  for  blood.  In  pity  fly!  If  you  have  love  for  your 
wife  or  regard  for  me,  delay  not  a  moment !  again  — " 
The  uproar  redoubled,  and  the  room  was  instantly  filled 
with  shrieking  women  in  their  night-clothes,  —  the  attend- 
ants of  Lady  Wallace.  She  lay  almost  expiring  on  her 
husband's  breast. 

"  Oh,  my  lord,"  cried  the  terrified  creatures,  wringing 
their  hands,  "what  will  become  of  us?  the  Southrons  are 
at  the  gates,  and  we  shall  be  lost  forever." 

"  Fear  not,"  replied  Wallace  ;  "  retire  to  your  chambers. 
I  am  the  person  they  seek;  none  else  will  .meet  with 
injury." 

Appeased  by  this  assurance,  the  women  retreated  to  their 
apartments ;  and  Wallace,  turning  to  the  earl,  who  con- 
tinued to  enforce  the  necessity  of  his  flight,  repeated  that 
he  would  not  consent  to  leave  his  wife  in  such  a  tumult. 
"  I  entreat  you  to  leave  me,"  cried  she,  in  an  inarticulate 
voice.     "  Leave  me,  or  see  me  die  !  " 

As  she  spoke,  there  was  a  violent  crash,  and  a  tremendous 
burst  of  imprecations.  Three  of  Wallace's  men  ran  pant- 
ing into  the  room.  Two  of  the  assailants  had  climbed  to 
the  hall  window;  they  were  just  thrown  back  upon  the 
cliffs,  and  one  killed.  "  Conceal  yourself,"  said  the  Scots  to 
Wallace,  "  for  in  a  few  minutes  more  your  men  will  not  be 
able  to  maintain  the  gates." 

"  Yes,  my  dear  lord,"  cried  Halbert.  "  There  is  the  dry 
well  at  the  end  of  the  garden ;  at  the  bottom  of  that  you 
will  be  safe." 

"  By  your  love  for  me,  Wallace,  by  all  you  owe  to  the 
tender  affections  of  your  grandfather,  hearken  to  him  !  " 
cried  Lady  Marion,  falling  at  his  feet  and  clasping  his 
knees  with  energy.     "  I  kneel  for  my  life  in  kneeling  for 


36  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

yours!  Pity  the  gray  hairs  of  Sir  Ronald,  whom  your  un- 
timely death  would  bring  to  the  grave  !  Pity  your  unborn 
child !  Fly,  Wallace,  fly,  if  you  would  have  me  live  !  "  She 
was  pale  and  breathless. 

"  Angel  of  my  life  !  "  exclaimed  Wallace,  straining  her  to 
his  heart,  "  I  obey  thee.  But  if  a  hand  of  one  of  these 
desperate  robbers  dares  to  touch  thy  hallowed  person  —  " 

"Think  not  so,  my  lord,"  interrupted  Halbert;  "it  is 
you  they  seek.  Not  finding  you,  they  will  be  too  eager  in 
pursuit  to  molest  your  lady." 

"I  shall  be  safe,"  whispered  Marion,  "only  fly!  While 
you  are  here,  their  shouts  kill  me." 

"But  thou  shalt  go  with  me,'  returned  he;  "the  well 
will  contain  us  all.  But  first  let  our  faithful  Halbert  and 
these  honest  fellows  lower  Lord  Mar  into  the  place  of 
refuge.  He,  being  the  cause  cf  the  affray,  if  discovered, 
would  be  immediately  sacrificed." 

Lord  Mar  acquiesced.  And  while  the  contention  was  so 
loud  without  as  to  threaten  the  tearing  down  of  the  walls, 
the  earl  was  carried  into  the  garden.  He  was  followed 
by  Sir  William  Wallace,  to  whose  arm  his  wife  yet  fondly 
clung.  At  every  cry  of  the  enemy,  at  every  shock  they 
gave  to  his  yet  impregnable  gates,  she  breathed  the  shorter, 
and  was  clasped  by  the  lord  of  her  heart  still  more  closely 
to  his  bosom. 

At  the  well  side  they  found  the  earl  bound  with  the  rope 
that  was  to  lower  him  to  the  bottom.  By  great  care  it  was 
safely  done;  and  the  cord  being  brought  up  again  before 
it  was  tied  round  Wallace  (as  Marion  insisted  he  should 
descend  next),  he  recollected  that  the  iron  box  at  his  side 
might  hurt  the  wounded  nobleman  by  striking  him  in  his 
descent,  and  unbuckling  it,  he  said  it  contained  matters  of 
great  value,  and  ordered  it  to  be  lowered  first. 

Lord  Mar,  beneath,  was  releasing  it  from  the  rope  when 
a  shout  of  triumph  pierced  their  ears.  A  party  of  the  Eng- 
lish, having  come  round  the  heights,  had  leaped  the  wall  of 
the  garden,  and  were  within  a  few  yards  of  the  well.  For 
Wallace  to  descend  now  was  impossible.  "  That  tree  ! " 
whispered  Marion,  pointing  to  an  oak  near  which  they 
stood.  As  she  spoke  she  slid  from  his  arms,  and  along 
with  the  venerable  Halbert,  who  had  seized  her  hand,  dis- 


LANARK.  37 

appeared  amid  the  adjoining  thicket.  The  two  servants 
fled  also. 

Wallace,  finding  himself  alone,  the  next  instant  was  like 
one  of  his  native  eagles,  looking  down  from  the  towering  top 
of  the  wood  upon  his  enemies.  They  passed  beneath  him, 
denouncing  vengeance  upon  the  assassin  of  Arthur  Hesel- 
rigge !  One,  who  by  the  brightness  of  his  armor  seemed  to 
be  their  leader,  stopped  under  the  tree,  and  complained  he 
had  so  sprained  his  ankle  in  leaping  the  wall,  he  must  wait 
a  few  minutes  to  recover  himself.  Several  soldiers  drew 
towards  him ;  but  he  ordered  them  to  pursue  their  duty, 
search  the  house,  and  bring  Wallace  dead  or  alive  before 
him. 

They  obeyed ;  but  others,  who  had  gained  admittance  to 
the  tower  through  the  now  forced  gates,  soon  ran  to  him 
with  information  that  the  murderer  could  nowhere  be 
found. 

"  But  here  is  a  gay  lady,"  cried  one ;  "  perhaps  she  can 
tell  us  his  hiding-place."  And  at  that  moment  Marion  and 
H albert  appeared  amongst  a  band  of  men.  The  lighted 
torches  which  the  soldiers  held  shone  full  on  her  face. 
Though  pale  as  monumental  marble,  the  exquisite  beauty  of 
her  features,  and  the  calm  dignity  which  commanded  from 
her  eyes,  awed  the  officer  into  respect  and  admiration. 

"  Soldiers,  stand  back ! "  cried  he,  advancing  to  Lady 
Wallace.  "  Fear  not,  madam."  As  the  words  passed  his 
lips,  a  flight  of  arrows  flew  into  the  bosom  of  the  tree.  A 
piercing  shriek  from  Marion  was  her  only  answer.  "  Oh  my 
lady's  falcon ! "  cried  Halbert,  alarmed  for  the  fate  of  his 
master.  A  sudden  agitation  of  the  branches  had  excited 
an  indefinite  suspicion  in  a  body  of  archers  who  stood  near, 
and  with  one  impulse  they  discharged  their  arrows  to  the 
spot.  Halbert's  ready  excuse,  both  for  the  disturbance  in 
the  tree  and  his  lady's  shriek,  was  prompted  and  warranted 
true  by  the  appearance  of  a  large  bird  which  the  rushing  of 
the  arrows  frighted  from  her  nest ;  she  rose  suddenly  from 
amongst  the  branches,  and  soared  away  far  to  the  east, 
with  loud  screams. 

All  being  again  still,  Marion  hoped  that  her  husband  had 
escaped  any  mortal  injury  from  the  arrows;  and  turning 
with  recovered  composure  to  the  officer,  heard  him,  with  a 


38  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

glow  of  comfort,  reprimand  his  men  for  daring  to  draw 
their  bows  without  his  orders.  Then  addressing  her,  "  I 
beg  your  pardon,  madam,"  said  he,  "both  for  the  alarm 
these  hot-headed  men  have  occasioned  you,  and  for  the  vio- 
lence they  have  committed  in  forcing  one  of  your  sex  and 
beauty  before  me.  Had  I  expected  to  have  found  a  lady 
here,  I  should  have  issued  orders  to  have  prevented  this 
outrage;  but  I  am  sent  hither  in  quest  of  Sir  William  Wal- 
lace, who,  by  a  mortal  attack  made  on  the  person  of  the 
governor  of  Lanark's  nephew,  has  forfeited  his  life.  The 
scabbard  of  his  sword,  found  beside  the  murdered  Hesel- 
rigge,  is  an  undeniable  proof  of  his  guilt.  Direct  us  to  find 
him ;  and  not  only  release  but  the  favor  of  the  English 
monarch  will  await  your  allegiance." 

"  I  am  Sir  William  Wallace's  wife,"  returned  the  gen- 
tle Marion  in  a  firm  tone;  "and  by  what  authority  you 
seek  him  thus,  and  presume  to  call  him  guilty,  I  cannot 
understand." 

"  By  the  authority  of  the  laws,  madam,  which  he  has 
violated." 

"What  laws?"  rejoined  she;  "Sir  WiUiam  Wallace 
acknowledges  none  but  those  of  his  God  and  his  country. 
Neither  of  these  has  he  transgressed  !  " 

The  officer  replied  :  "  This  night  he  assassinated  Arthur 
Heselrigge  in  the  streets  of  Lanark ;  and  that  condemns 
him  by  the  last  declaration  of  King  Edward,  '  Whatever 
Scot  maltreats  any  one  of  the  English  soldiers  or  civil 
ofificers  garrisoned  in  the  towns  of  Scotland,  shall  thereby 
forfeit  his  life  as  the  penalty  of  his  crime.'  " 

"  A  tyrant's  law,  sir,  to  which  no  free-born  Scot  will  sub- 
mit !  But  even  were  it  allowed  by  my  countrymen,  in  this 
case  it  can  have  no  hold  on  my  husband.  That  he  is  a 
Scot,  he  glories  ;  and  not  that  he  maltreated  any  English- 
man in  the  streets  of  Lanark  do  I  glory,  but  because 
when  he  saw  two  defenceless  men  borne  down  by  a  band 
of  armed  soldiers,  he  exposed  his  unshielded  breast  in  their 
defence  !  One  of  the  two  died,  covered  with  wounds.  That 
the  governor's  nephew  also  fell  v/as  a  just  retribution  for  his 
heading  so  unequal  a  contest,  and  no  crime  in  Sir  William 
Wallace  ;  for  he  slew  him  to  preserv'e  a  feeble  old  man  who 
had  a  hundred  English  swords  levelled  at  his  life." 


LANARK.  39 

The  officer  paused  for  a  moment ;  and  then  ordering  his 
soldiers  to  fall  farther  back,  when  they  were  at  a  sufficient 
distance  he  offered  to  take  Lady  Wallace's  hand.  She 
withstood  his  motion  with  a  reserved  air,  and  said,  "  Speak, 
sir,  what  you  would  say,  or  allow  me  to  retire." 

"  I  mean  not  to  offend  you,  noble  lady,"  continued  he. 
"Had  I  a  wife  lovely  as  yourself,  I  hope,  were  I  in  like  cir- 
cumstances, in  the  like  manner  she  would  defend  my  life 
and  honor.  I  knew  not  the  particulars  of  the  affair  in 
which  Arthur  Heselrigge  fell,  till  I  heard  them  from  your 
lips.  I  can  easily  credit  them,  for  I  know  his  unmanly 
character.  Wallace  is  a  Scot ;  and  acted  in  Scotland  as 
Gilbert  Hambledon  would  have  done  in  England,  were  it 
possible  for  any  vile  foreigner  there  to  put  his  foot  upon 
the  neck  of  a  countryman  of  his.  Wherever  you  have  con- 
cealed your  husband,  let  it  be  a  distant  asylum.  At  present, 
no  tract  within  the  jurisdiction  of  Lanark  will  be  left  un- 
searched  by  the  governor's  indefatigable  revenge." 

Lady  Wallace,  overcome  with  gratitude  at  this  generous 
speech  of  the  English  officer,  uttered  some  inarticulate 
words  expressive  more  in  sound  than  clearness  of  her  grateful 
feelings.  Hambledon  continued  :  "  I  will  use  my  influence 
with  Heselrigge  to  prevent  the  interior  of  your  house  being 
disturbed  again  ;  but  it  being  in  the  course  of  military  ope- 
rations, I  cannot  free  you  from  the  disagreeable  ceremony  of 
a  guard  being  placed  to-morrow  morning  around  the  do- 
mains. This,  I  know,  will  be  done  to  intercept  Sir  William 
Wallace,  should  he  attempt  to  return." 

"  Oh  that  he  were  indeed  far  distant ! "  thought  the 
anxious  Marion. 

The  officer  added,  "  However,  you  shall  be  relieved  of 
my  detachment  directly."  As  he  spoke  he  waved  his  sword 
to  them  who  had  seized  the  harper.  They  advanced,  still 
holding  their  prisoner.  He  ordered  them  to  commit  the 
man  to  him,  and  to  sound.  The  trumpeter  obeyed,  and  in 
a  few  seconds  the  whole  detachment  were  assembled  before 
their  commander. 

"  Soldiers,"  cried  he,  *'  Sir  William  Wallace  has  escaped 
our  hands.  Mount  your  horses  that  we  may  return  to 
Lanark  and  search  the  other  side  of  the  town.  Lead 
forth,  and  I  will  follow." 


40  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

The  troops  obeyed  ;  and  falling  back  through  the  opened 
gates,  left  Sir  Gilbert  Hambledon  alone  with  Lady  Wallace 
and  the  wondering  Halbert.  The  brave  young  man  took 
the  no  longer  withdrawn  hand  of  the  grateful  Marion, 
who  had  stood  trembling  while  so  many  of  her  husband's 
mortal  enemies  were  assembled  under  the  place  of  his 
concealment. 

"  Noble  Englishman,"  said  she,  as  the  last  body  of 
soldiers  passed  from  her  sight,  "  I  cannot  enough  thank 
you  for  this  generous  conduct ;  but  should  you  or  yours  be 
ever  in  the  like  extremity  with  my  beloved  Wallace,  ■ —  and  in 
these  tyrannous  times,  what  brave  spirit  can  answer  for  its 
continued  safety  ?  —  may  the  ear  which  has  heard  you  this 
night  at  that  hour  repay  my  gratitude  !  " 

"  Sweet  lady,"  answered  Hambledon,  "  I  thank  you  for 
your  prayer.  God  is  indeed  the  benefactor  of  a  true  sol- 
dier, and  though  I  serve  my  king  and  obey  my  commanders, 
yet  it  is  only  to  the  Lord  of  Battles  that  I  look  for  a  sure 
reward ;  and  whether  he  pay  me  here  with  victories  and 
honors,  or  take  my  soul  through  a  rent  in  my  breast  to 
receive  my  laurel  in  paradise,  it  is  all  one  to  Gilbert  Ham- 
bledon. —  But  the  night  is  cold  :  I  must  see  you  safe  within 
your  own  doors ;  and  then,  lady,  farewell." 

Lady  Wallace  yielded  to  the  impulse  of  his  hand  with 
redoubled  haste,  as  she  heard  another  rustling  in  the  tree 
above  her  head.  Hambledon  did  not  notice  it;  but  desir- 
ing Halbert  to  follow,  in  a  few  minutes  disappeared  with 
the  agitated  Marion  into  the  house. 

Wallace,  whose  spirit  could  ill  brook  the  sight  of  his 
domains  filled  with  hostile  troops,  and  the  wife  of  his  bosom 
brought  a  prisoner  before  their  commander,  would  instantly 
have  braved  all  dangers  and  have  leaped  down  amongst 
them  ;  but  at  the  instant  he  placed  his  foot  on  a  lower 
bough  to  make  a  spring,  the  courteous  address  of  Hamble- 
don to  his  wife  made  him  hesitate.  He  listened  to  the 
replies  of  his  Marion  with  exultation  ;  and  when  the  Eng- 
lishman ordered  his  men  to  withdraw,  and  delivered  him- 
self so  generously  respecting  the  safety  of  the  man  he  came 
to  seize,  Wallace  could  hardly  prevent  a  noble  confidence 
in  such  virtue  from  compelling  him  to  come  from  his  con- 
cealment, and  thank  him  on  the  spot.     But  the  considera 


LANARK.  41 

tion  that  such  a  disclosure  would  put  the  military  duty  and 
the  generous  nature  of  the  commander  at  variance,  he  de- 
sisted with  such  an  agitation  of  spirits  that  the  boughs 
again  shook  under  him,  and  reawakened  the  alarm  of  his 
trembling  wife. 

"  Omnipotent  Virtue  !  "  exclaimed  Wallace  to  himself,  "if 
it  were  possible  that  thy  generous  spirit  could  animate  the 
breast  of  an  invading  conqueror,  how  soon  would  the  van- 
quished cease  to  forget  their  former  freedom,  and  learn  to 
love  their  vassalage.  This  man's  nobleness,  how  soon  has 
it  quenched  the  flame  of  vengeance  with  which,  when  I 
ascended  this  tree,  I  prayed  for  the  extirpation  of  every 
follower  of  Edward !  " 

"  Sir  William  !  my  master  !  "  cried  a  well-known  voice  in 
a  suppressed  tone,  as  if  still  fearful  of  being  overheard.  It 
was  Halbert's.     "  Speak,  my  dear  lord  !    Are  you  safe  ? " 

"In  heart  and  body!"  returned  Wallace,  sliding  from 
the  tree,  and  leaping  on  the  ground.  "  One  only  of  the 
arrows  touched  me;  and  that  merely  struck  against  my 
bugle  and  fell  back  amongst  the  leaves.  I  must  now 
hasten  to  the  dearest,  the  noblest  of  women  ! " 

H albert  begged  him  to  stay  till  they  should  hear  the 
retreat  from  the  English  trumpets.  "Till  their  troops  are 
out  of  sight,"  added  he,  "  I  cannot  believe  you  safe." 

"  Hark  !  "  cried  Wallace,  "  the  horses  are  now  descending 
the  craig.  That  must  satisfy  you,  honest  Halbert."  With 
these  words  he  flew  across  the  lawn,  and  entering  the 
house,  met  the  returning  Marion,  who  had  just  bade  fare- 
well to  Hambledon.  She  rushed  into  his  arms,  and  with 
the  excess  of  a  disturbed  and  uncertain  joy,  fainted  on  his 
neck.  Her  gentle  spirit  had  been  too  powerfully  excited  by 
the  preceding  scenes.  Unaccustomed  to  tumult  of  any 
kind,  and  nursed  in  the  bosom  of  fondness,  till  now  no 
blast  had  blown  on  her  tender  form,  no  harshness  had  ever 
ruffled  the  blissful  serenity  of  her  mind.  What  then  was 
the  shock  of  this  evening's  violence !  Her  husband  pur- 
sued as  a  murderer;  herself  exposed  to  the  midnight  air, 
and  dragged  by  the  hands  of  merciless  soldiers  to  betray 
the  man  she  loved  !  All  these  scenes  were  new  to  her;  and 
though  a  kind  of  preternatural  strength  had  supported  her 
through  them,  yet  when  the  cause  of  immediate  exertion  was 


42  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

over,  when  she  fell  once  more  into  her  husband's  extended 
arms,  she  seemed  there  to  have  found  again  her  shelter, 
and  the  pillow  whereon  her  harassed  soul  might  repose. 

"My  life,  my  best  treasure,  preserver  of  thy  Wallace, 
look  on  him!"  exclaimed  he.  "Bless  him  with  a  smile 
from  those  dear  eyes." 

His  voice,  his  caresses,  soon  restored  her  to  sensibility 
and  recollection.  She  wept  on  his  breast,  and  with  love's 
own  eloquence  thanked  Heaven  that  he  had  escaped  the 
search  and  the  arrows  of  his  enemies. 

"But,  my  dear  lady,"  interrupted  Halbert,  "remember 
my  master  must  not  stay  here.  You  know  the  English 
commander  said  he  must  fly  far  away.  Nay,  spies  may 
even  now  be  lurking  to  betray  him." 

"You  are  right,"  cried  she.  "My  Wallace,  you  must 
depart.  Should  the  guard  arrive  soon,  your  flight  may  be 
prevented.     You  must  go  now,  —  but,  oh,  whither? " 

"  Not  very  distant,  my  love.  In  going  from  thee,  I  leave 
behind  all  that  makes  life  precious  to  me ;  how  then  can  I 
go  far  away .?  No ;  there  are  recesses  amongst  the  Cartlane 
craigs  I  discovered  while  hunting,  and  which  I  believe  have 
been  visited  by  no  mortal  foot  but  my  own.  There  will  I 
be,  my  Marion,  before  sunrise;  and  before  it  sets,  thither 
must  you  send  Halbert  to  tell  me  how  you  fare.  Three 
notes  from  thine  own  sweet  strains  of  '  Thusa  ha  measg  na 
reultan  mor,'^  blown  by  his  pipe,  shall  be  a  sign  to  me  that 
he  is  there,  and  I  will  come  forth  to  hear  tidings  of  thee." 

"Ah,  my  Wallace,  let  me  go  with  thee  !  " 

"What,  dearest,"  returned  he,  "to  live  amidst  rocks  and 
streams!  to  expose  thy  tender  self  and  thine  unborn  infant 
to  all  the  accidents  of  such  a  lodging!  " 

"But  are  not  you  going  to  so  rough,  so  dangerous  a 
lodging.?"  asked  she.  "Oh,  would  not  rocks  and  streams 
be  heaven's  paradise  to  me,  when  blessed  with  the  presence 
of  my  husband  1    Ah,  let  me  go !  " 

"Impossible,  my  lady,"  cried  Halbert,  afraid  that  the 
melting  heart  of  his  master  would  consent;  "you  are  safe 
here,  and  your  flight  would  awaken  suspicion  m  the  Eng- 

1  '  Thusa  ha  measg  na  reultan  mor,'  etc.,  are  the  beginning  words  of 
an  old  Gaelic  ditty,  the  English  of  which  runs  thus:  "Thou  who  art 
amid  the  stars,  move  to  thy  bed  with  music,"  etc 


LANARK.  43 

lish  that  he  had  not  gone  far.  Your  ease  and  safety  are 
dearer  to  him  than  his  own  hfe;  and  most  likely  by  his 
cares  to  preserve  them  he  would  be  traced,  and  so  fall  a 
ready  sacrifice  to  the  enemy." 

"It  is  true,  my  Marion ;  I  could  not  preserve  you  in  the 
places  to  which  I  go." 

"  But  the  hardships  you  will  endure !  "  cried  she ;  "to  sleep 
on  the  cold  stones,  with  no  covering  but  the  sky,  or  the 
dripping  vault  of  some  dreary  cave !  I  have  not  courage 
to  abandon  you  alone  to  such  cruel  rigors." 

"Cease,  my  beloved,"  interrupted  he,  "cease  these 
groundless  alarms.  Neither  rocks  nor  storms  have  any 
threats  to  me.  It  is  only  tender  woman's  cares  that  make 
man's  body  delicate.  Before  I  was  thine,  my  Marion,  I 
have  lain  whole  nights  upon  the  mountain's  brow  counting 
the  wintry  stars,  as  I  impatiently  awaited  the  hunter's  horn 
that  was  to  recall  me  to  the  chase  in  Glenfinlass.  Alike  to 
Wallace  is  the  couch  of  down  or  the  bed  of  heather;  so, 
best  beloved  of  my  heart,  grieve  not  at  hardships  which 
were  once  my  sport,  and  will  now  be  my  safety." 

"Then  farewell!  May  good  angels  guard  thee!"  Her 
voice  failed,  she  put  his  hand  to  her  lips. 

"Courage,  my  Marion,"  said  he;  "remember  that  Wal- 
lace lives  but  in  thee.  Revive,  be  happy  for  my  sake  ;  and 
God,  who  putteth  down  the  oppressor,  will  restore  me  to 
thine  arms." 

She  spoke  not,  but  rising  from  his  breast,  clasped  her 
hands  together,  and  looked  up  with  an  expression  of  fer- 
vent prayer;  then  smiling  through  a  shower  of  tears,  she 
waved  her  hand  to  him  to  depart,  and  instantly  disappeared 
into  her  own  chamber. 

Wallace  gazed  at  the  closed  door  with  his  soul  in  his 
eyes.  To  leave  his  Marion  thus,  to  quit  her  who  was  the 
best  part  of  his  being,  who  seemed  the  very  spring  of  the 
life  now  throbbing  in  his  heart,  was  a  contention  with  his 
fond,  fond  love,  almost  too  powerful  for  his  resolution. 
Here  indeed  his  brave  spirit  gave  way ;  and  he  would  have 
followed  her,  and  perhaps  have  determined  to  await  his 
fate  at  her  side,  had  not  Halbert,  reading  his  mind  in  his 
countenance,  taken  him  by  the  arm  and  drawn  him  towards 
the  portal. 


44  ^^^   SCOTTISH  CHIEFS 

Wallace  soon  recovered  his  better  reason ;  and  obey- 
ing the  friendly  violence  of  his  servant,  accompanied  him 
through  the  garden  to  the  quarter  which  pointed  towards 
the  heights  that  led  to  the  remotest  recesses  of  the  Clyde. 
In  their  way  they  approached  the  well  where  Lord  Mar  lay. 
Finding  that  the  earl  had  not  been  inquired  for,  Wallace 
deemed  his  stay  to  be  without  peril  •,  and  intending  to  in- 
form him  of  the  necessity  which  still  impelled  his  own  flight, 
he  called  to  him,  but  no  voice  answered.  He  looked  down, 
and  seeing  him  extended  at  the  bottom  without  motion,  "  I 
fear,"  said  he,  "the  earl  is  dead:  as  soon  as  I  am  gone, 
and  you  can  collect  the  dispersed  servants,  send  one  into  the 
well  to  bring  him  forth  ;  and  if  he  be  indeed  no  more,  de- 
posit his  body  in  my  oratory  till  you  can  receive  his  widow's 
commands  respecting  his  remains.  The  iron  box,  now  in 
the  well,  is  of  inestimable  value.  Take  it  to  Lady  Wallace, 
and  tell  her  she  must  guard  it  as  she  has  done  my  life ;  but 
not  to  look  into  it  at  the  peril  of  what  is  yet  dearer  to  her,  — 
my  honor." 

Halbert  promised  to  adhere  to  his  master's  orders:  and 
Wallace,  girding  on  his  sword,  and  taking  his  hunting 
spear  (with  which  the  care  of  his  venerable  domestic  had 
provided  him),  he  pressed  the  faithful  hand  that  presented 
it;  and  again  enjoining  him  to  be  watchful  of  the  tran- 
quillity of  his  lady,  and  to  be  with  him  in  the  evening  near 
the  Corie  Lin,  he  climbed  the  wall,  and  was  out  of  sight  in 
an  instant. 


CHAPTER   IIL 

ELLERSLIE. 

HALBERT  returned  to  the  house,  and  entering  the 
room  softly  into  which  Marion  had  withdrawn,  be- 
held her  on  her  knees  before  a  crucifix;  she  was  praymg 
for  the  safety  of  her  beloved  Wallace. 

"  May  he,  O  gracious  Lord  !  "  cried  she,  "soon  return  to 
his  home.  But  if  I  am  to  see  him  here  no  more,  oh  may 
it  please  Thee  to  grant  me  to  meet  him  within  thy  arms  in 
heaven ! " 


ELLERSLIE.  45 

"Hear  her,  blessed  Son  of  Mary!"  ejaculated  the  old 
man.  She  looked  round,  and  rising  from  her  knees,  de- 
manded of  him  in  a  kind  but  anxious  voice  whether  he  had 
left  her  lord  in  security. 

"  In  the  way  to  it,  my  lady,"  answered  Halbert.  He 
repeated  all  that  Wallace  had  said  at  parting,  and  then 
tried  to  prevail  on  her  to  go  to  rest. 

"  Sleep  cannot  visit  my  eyes  this  night,  my  faithful 
creature,"  replied  she  ;  "  my  spirit  will  follow  Wallace  in 
his  mountain  flight.  Go  you  to  your  chamber.  After  you 
have  had  repose,  that  will  be  time  enough  to  revisit  the 
remains  of  the  poor  earl,  and  to  bring  them  with  the  box  to 
the  house.  I  will  take  a  religious  charge  of  both,  for  the 
sake  cf  the  dear  intruster." 

Halbert  persuaded  his  lady  to  lie  down  on  the  bed,  that 
her  limbs  at  least  might  rest  after  the  fatigue  of  so  harass- 
ing a  night ;  and  she,  little  suspecting  that  he  meant  to  do 
otherwise  than  to  sleep  also,  kindly  wished  him  repose,  and 
retired. 

Her  maids  during  the  late  terror  had  dispersed,  and  were 
nowhere  to  be  found.  And  the  men  too,  after  their  stout 
resistance  at  the  gates,  had  all  disappeared :  some  fled  ; 
ajid  others  were  sent  away  prisoners  to  Lanark,  while  the 
good  Hambledon  was  conversing  with  their  lady.  Halbert 
therefore  resigned  himself  to  await  with  patience  the  rising 
of  the  sun,  when  he  hoped  some  of  the  scared  domestics 
would  return ;  if  not,  he  determined  to  go  to  the  cotters  who 
lived  in  the  depths  of  the  glen,  and  bring  some  of  them  to 
supply  the  place  of  the  fugitives. 

Thus  musing  he  sat  on  a  stone  bench  in  the  hall,  watch- 
ing anxiously  the  appearance  of  that  orb  whose  setting 
beams  he  hoped  would  light  him  back  with  tidings  of  Sir 
William  Wallace,  to  comfort  the  lonely  heart  of  his  lady. 
All  seemed  at  peace.  Nothing  was  heard  but  the  sighing 
of  the  trees  as  they  waved  before  the  western  window 
which  opened  towards  the  Lanark  hills.  The  morning  was 
yet  gray  ;  and  the  fresh  air  blowing  in  rather  chilly,  Halbert 
rose  to  close  the  wooden  shutter ;  at  that  moment  his  eyes 
were  arrested  by  a  party  of  armed  men  slowly  proceeding 
down  the  opposite  decUvity.  In  a  few  minutes  more  their 
heavy  steps  sounded  in  his  ears,  and  he  saw  the  platform 


46  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

before  the  house  filled  with  English.  Alarmed  at  the  sight 
of  such  a  host,  although  he  expected  a  guard  would  arrive, 
he  was  retreating  across  the  apartment  towards  his  lady's 
room,  when  the  great  hall  door  was  burst  open  by  a  band 
of  soldiers,  who  rushed  forward  and  seized  him. 

"  Tell  me,  dotard,"  cried  their  leader,  a  man  of  low  stat- 
ure, with  gray  locks  but  a  fierce  countenance,  '•  where  is 
the  murderer.-*  Where  is  Sir  William  Wallace.''  Speak, 
or  the  torture  shall  force  you." 

Halbert  trembled;  but  it  was  for  his  defenceless  lady, 
not  for  himself.  "  My  master,"  said  he,  "  is  far  from 
this." 

"  Where  ?  " 

"  I  know  not." 

"  Thou  shalt  be  made  to  know,  thou  hoary-headed  vil- 
lain !  "  cried  the  same  violent  interrogator.  "  Where  is  the 
assassin's  wife  ?     I  will  confront  ye  ;  seek  her  out." 

At  that  word  the  soldiers  parted  right  and  left ;  and  in  a 
moment  afterwards  three  of  them  appeared  with  shouts, 
bringing  in  the  unhappy  Marion. 

"  Oh,  my  lady  !  "  cried  Halbert,  struggling  to  approach 
her  as  with  terrified  apprehension  she  looked  around  her. 
But  they  held  her  fast;  and  he  saw  her  led  up  to  the 
merciles^  wretch  who  had  given  the  orders  to  have  her 
summoned. 

"  Woman,"  cried  he,  "  I  am  the  governor  of  Lanark. 
You  now  stand  before  the  representative  of  the  great  King 
Edward ;  and  on  your  allegiance  to  him,  and  on  the  peril 
of  your  life,  I  command  you  to  answer  me  three  questions. 
Where  is  Sir  William  Wallace,  the  murderer  of  my  nephew? 
Who  is  that  old  Scot  for  whom  my  nephew  was  slain  1  He 
and  his  whole  family  shall  meet  my  vengeance  !  And  tell 
me  where  is  that  box  of  treasure  which  your  husband  stole 
from  Douglas  castle  ?  Answer  me  these  questions  on  your 
life." 

Lady  Wallace  remained  silent. 

"  Speak,  woman  !  "  demanded  the  governor.  "  If  fear 
cannot  move  you,  know  that  I  can  reward  as  well  as  avenge. 
I  will  endow  you  richly,  if  you  declare  the  truth.  If  you 
persist  to  refuse,  you  die." 

"  Then  I   die,"  replied  she,  scarcely  opening  her  half- 


ELLERSLIE.  47 

closed  eyes,  as  she  leaned  fainting  and  motionless  against 
the  soldier  who  held  her. 

"  What  ? "  cried  the  governor,  stifling  his  rage,  in  hopes 
to  gain  by  persuasion  on  a  spirit  which  he  found  threats 
could  not  intimidate  ;  "  can  so  gentle  a  lady  reject  the  favor 
of  England,  large  grants  in  this  country,  and  perhaps  a  fine 
English  knight  for  a  husband,  when  you  might  have  all  for 
the  trifling  service  of  giving  up  a  traitor  to  his  liege  lord, 
and  confessing  where  his  robberies  lie  concealed  ?  Speak, 
fair  dame  ;  give  me  this  information,  and  the  lands  of  the 
wounded  chieftain  whom  Wallace  brought  here,  with  the 
hand  of  the  handsome  Sir  Gilbert  Hambledon,  shall  be 
your  reward.  Rich,  and  a  beauty  in  Edward's  court !  lady, 
can  you  now  refuse  to  purchase  all,  by  declaring  the  hiding- 
place  of  the  traitor  Wallace  ?  " 
"  It  is  easier  to  die." 

"  Fool ! "  cried  Heselrigge,  driven  from  his  assumed  tem- 
per by  her  steady  denial.  "What!  is  it  easier  for  these 
dainty  limbs  to  be  hacked  to  pieces  by  my  soldiers'  axes  ; 
is  it  easier  for  that  fair  bosom  to  be  trodden  under  foot  by 
my  horses'  hoofs,  and  for  that  beauteous  head  of  thine  to 
decorate  my  lance,  —  is  all  this  easier  than  to  tell  me  where 
to  find  a  murderer  and  his  gold  ?  " 

Lady  Wallace  shuddered;  she  stretched  her  hands  to 
heaven.     "  Blessed  Virgin,  to  thee  I  commit  myself  !  " 

"  Speak,  once  for  all !  "  cried  the  enraged  governor, 
drawing  his  sword;  "I  am  no  waxen-hearted  Hambledon 
to  be  cajoled  by  your  beauty.  Declare  where  Wallace  is 
concealed,  or  dread  my  vengeance." 

The  horrid  steel  gleamed  across  the  eyes  of  the  unhappy 
Marion ;  unable  to  sustain  herself,  she  sunk  on  the  ground. 
"  Kneel  not  to  me  for  mercy,"  cried  the  infuriate  wretch  ; 
"  I  grant  none  unless  you  confess  your  husband's  hiding- 
place." 

A  momentary  strength  darted  from  the  heart  of  Lady 
Wallace  to  her  voice.  "  I  kneel  to  Heaven  alone  !  and  may 
it  ever  preserve  my  Wallace  from  the  fangs  of  Edward  and 
his  tyrants !  " 

"  Blasphemous  wretch  !  "  cried  the  infuriate  Heselrigge, 
and  in  that  moment  he  plunged  his  sword  into  her  defence- 
less breast.     H  albert,  who  had  all  this  time  been  held  back 


48  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

by  the  soldiers,  could  not  believe  that  the  fierce  governor 
would  perpetrate  the  horrid  deed  he  threatened ;  but  seeing 
it  done,  with  a  giant's  strength,  and  a  terrible  cry,  he  burst 
from  the  hands  which  held  him,  and  had  thrown  himself  on 
the  bleeding  Marion  before  her  murderer  could  strike  his 
second  blow.  However,  it  fell,  and  pierced  through  the 
neck  of  the  faithful  servant  before  it  reached  her  heart. 
She  opened  her  dying  eyes,  and  seeing  who  it  was  that 
would  have  shielded  her  life,  just  articulated,  "  H albert !  my 
Wallace  —  to  God  "  —  and  with  the  last  unfinished  sentence, 
her  pure  soul  took  its  flight  to  regions  of  eternal  peace. 

The  good  old  man's  heart  almost  burst  when  he  felt  that 
before  heaving  bosom  now  motionless  ;  and  groaning  with 
grief  and  fainting  with  loss  of  blood,  he  sunk  senseless  on 
her  body. 

A  terrible  stillness  was  now  in  the  hall.  Not  a  man 
spoke ;  all  stood  looking  on  each  other  with  a  stern  horror 
marking  each  pale  countenance.  Heselrigge,  dropping  his 
blood-stained  sword  on  the  ground,  perceived  by  the  be- 
havior of  his  men  that  he  had  gone  too  far ;  and  fearful  of 
arousing  the  indignation  of  awakened  humanity  to  some 
act  against  himself,  he  addressed  the  soldiers  in  an  unusual 
accent  of  condescension  :  "  My  friends,"  said  he,  "  we  will 
now  return  to  Lanark.  To-morrow  you  may  come  back ; 
for  I  reward  your  services  of  this  night  with  the  plunder  of 
Ellerslie." 

"  May  a  curse  light  on  him  who  carries  a  stick  from  its 
grounds  !  "  exclaimed  a  veteran  from  the  farther  end  of  the 
hall. 

"  Amen  !  "  murmured  all  the  soldiers  with  one  consent ; 
and  falling  back,  they  disappeared  one  by  one  out  of  the 
great  door,  leaving  Heselrigge  alone  with  the  old  soldier, 
who  stood  leaning  on  his  sword,  looking  on  the  murdered 
lady. 

»  Grimsby,  why  stand  you  there  ?  "  demanded  Heselrigge. 
"  Follow  me." 

"  Never  !  "  returned  the  soldier. 

"  What !  "  exclaimed  the  governor,  momentarily  forgetting 
his  panic,  "dare  you  speak  thus  to  your  commander? 
March  on  before  me  this  instant,  or  expect  to  be  treated 
as  a  rebel." 


ELLERSLIE.  49 

*'  I  march  at  your  command  110  more, "  replied  the  vete- 
ran, eying  him  resolutely.  "  The  moment  you  perpetrated 
this  bloody  deed,  you  became  unworthy  the  name  of  man ; 
and  I  should  disgrace  my  own  manhood  were  I  ever  again 
to  obey  the  word  of  such  a  monster." 

"  Villain  !  "  cried  the  enraged  Heselrigge,  '•  you  shall  die 
for  this !  " 

"  That  may  be,"  answered  Grimsby,  "  by  the  hands  of 
some  tyrant  like  yourself ;  but  no  brave  man,  not  the  royal 
Edward,  would  do  otherwise  than  acquit  his  soldier  for 
refusing  obedience  to  the  murderer  of  an  innocent  woman. 
It  was  not  so  he  treated  the  wives  and  daughters  of  the 
slaughtered  Saracens,  when  I  followed  his  banners  over 
the  fields  of  Palestine  !  " 

"  Thou  canting  miscreant !  "  cried  Heselrigge,  springing 
on  him  suddenly,  and  aiming  his  dagger  at  his  breast.  But 
the  soldier  arrested  the  weapon ;  and  at  the  same  instant 
closing  upon  the  assassin,  with  a  turn  of  his  foot  threw  him 
to  the  ground.  Heselrigge,  as  he  lay  prostrate,  seeing  his 
dagger  in  his  adversary's  hand,  with  the  most  dastardly 
promises  implored  for  life. 

"  Monster  !  "  cried  the  soldier,  "  I  would  not  pollute  my 
honest  hands  with  such  unnatural  blood.  Neither,  thougfh 
thy  hand  has  been  lifted  against  my  life,  would  I  willingly 
take  thine.  It  is  not  rebellion  against  my  commander  that 
actuates  me,  but  hatred  of  the  vilest  of  murderers.  I  go 
far  from  you  or  your  power :  but  if  you  forswear  your 
voluntary  oath,  and  attempt  to  seek  me  out  for  vengeance, 
remember  it  is  a  soldier  of  the  cross  you  pursue ;  and  a  dire 
retribution  shall  be  demanded  by  Heaven,  at  a  moment  you 
cannot  avoid,  and  with  a  horror  commensurate  with  your 
crimes." 

There  was  a  solemnity  and  a  determination  in  the  voice 
and  manner  of  the  soldier  that  paralyzed  the  intimidated 
soul  of  the  governor ;  he  trembled  violently,  and  repeating 
his  oath  of  leaving  Grimsby  unmolested,  at  last  obtained 
his  permission  to  return  to  Lanark.  The  men,  in  obedience 
to  the  conscience-struck  orders  of  their  commander,  had 
mounted  their  horses,  and  were  now  far  out  of  sight. 
Heselrigge's  charger  was  still  in  the  courtyard.  He  was 
hurrying  towards  it,  but  the  soldier  with  a  prudent  suspicion 
VOL.  I.  —  4 


50  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

called  out,  "  Stop,  sir !  you  must  walk  to  Lanark.  The 
cruel  are  generally  false.  I  cannot  trust  your  word,  should 
you  have  the  power  to  break  it.  Leave  this  horse  here; 
to-morrow  you  may  send  for  it.     I  shall  then  be  far  away." 

Heselrigge  saw  that  remonstrance  would  be  unavailing, 
and  shaking  with  fear  and  impotent  rage,  he  turned  into 
the  path  which,  after  five  weary  miles,  would  lead  him 
once  more  to  his  citadel. 

From  the  moment  the  soldier's  manly  spirit  had  dared 
to  deliver  its  abhorrence  of  Lady  Wallace's  murder,  he  was 
aware  that  his  life  would  no  longer  be  safe  within  reach  of 
the  machinations  of  Heselrigge;  and  determined  alike  by 
detestation  of  him  and  regard  for  his  own  preservation,  he 
resolved  to  take  shelter  in  the  mountains  till  he  could  have 
an  opportunity  of  going  beyond  sea  to  join  his  king's  troops 
in  the  Guienne  wars. 

Full  of  these  thoughts  he  returned  into  the  hall.  As  he 
approached  the  bleeding  group  on  the  floor,  he  perceived  it 
move.  Hoping  that  perhaps  the  unhappy  lady  might  not 
be  dead,  he  drew  near ;  but,  alas !  as  he  bent  to  examine, 
he  touched  her  hand,  and  found  it  quite  cold.  The  blood 
which  had  streamed  from  the  now  exhausted  heart  lay 
congealed  upon  her  arms  and  bosom.  Grimsby  shuddered. 
Again  he  saw  her  move ;  but  it  was  not  with  her  own  Hfe ; 
the  recovering  senses  of  her  faithful  servant,  as  his  arms 
clung  around  the  body,  had  disturbed  the  remains  of  her 
who  would  wake  no  more. 

On  seeing  that  existence  yet  struggled  in  one  of  these 
blameless  victims,  Grimsby  did  his  utmost  to  revive  the  old 
man.  He  raised  him  from  the  ground,  and  poured  some 
strong  liquor  out  of  his  flask  into  his  mouth.  Halbert 
breathed  freer;  and  his  kind  surgeon  with  the  venerable 
harper's  own  plaid  bound  up  the  wound  in  his  neck.  Hal- 
bert opened  his  eyes ;  when  he  fixed  them  on  the  rough 
features  and  English  helmet  of  the  soldier,  he  closed  them 
again  with  a  deep  groan. 

"  My  honest  Scot,"  said  Grimsby,  "  trust  in  me.  I  am 
a  man  like  yourself;  and  though  a  Southron,  am  no  enemy 
to  age  and  helplessness." 

The  harper  took  courage  at  these  words ;  he  again 
looked  at  the  soldier ;  but  suddenly  recollecting  what  had 


ELLERSLIE.  5 1 

passed,  he  turned  his  eyes  towards  the  body  of  his  mistress, 
on  which  the  beams  of  the  now  rising  sun  were  shining. 
He  started  up,  and  staggering  towards  it,  would  have  fallen 
had  not  Grimsby  supported  him.  "  Oh,  what  a  sight  is 
this  !  "  cried  he,  wringing  his  hands.  "  My  lady !  my  lovely 
lady !  see  how  low  she  lies,  who  was  once  the  delight  of  all 
eyes,  the  comforter  of  all  hearts." 

The  old  man's  sobs  suffocated  him.  The  veteran  turned 
away  his  face ;  a  tear  dropped  upon  his  hand.  "  Accursed 
Heselrigge,"  ejaculated  he,  "thy  fate  must  come  !  " 

''  If  there  be  a  man's  heart  in  all  Scotland  it  is  not  far 
distant !  "  cried  H albert.  "  My  master  lives,  and  will  avenge 
this  murder.  You  weep,  soldier ;  and  you  will  not  betray 
what  has  now  escaped  me  ?  " 

"  I  have  fought  in  Palestine,"  returned  he,  "  and  a  soldier 
of  the  cross  betrays  none  who  trust  in  him.  Saint  Mary 
preserve  your  master,  and  conduct  you  safely  to  him  !  We 
must  both  hasten  hence.  Heselrigge  will  surely  send  in 
pursuit  of  me.  He  is  too  vile  to  forgive  the  truth  I  have 
spoken  to  him ;  and  should  I  fall  into  his  power  death  is 
the  best  I  could  expect  at  his  hands.  Let  me  assist  you  to 
put  this  poor  lady's  remains  into  some  decent  place ;  and 
then,  my  honest  Scot,  we  must  separate." 

H  albert,  at  these  words,  threw  himself  upon  the  bosom 
of  his  mistress,  and  wept  with  loud  lamentations  over  her. 
In  vain  he  attempted  to  raise  her  in  his  feeble  arms.  "  I 
have  carried  thee  scores  of  times  in  thy  blooming  infancy," 
cried  he ;  "  and  now  must  I  bear  thee  to  thy  grave  ?  I  had 
hoped  that  my  eyes  would  have  been  closed  by  this  dear 
hand."  As  he  spoke  he  pressed  her  cold  hand  to  his  lips 
with  such  convulsive  sobs  that  the  soldier,  fearing  he  would 
expire  in  the  agony  of  his  sorrow,  took  hmi  almost  motion- 
less from  the  dead  body,  and  exhorted  him  to  repress  such 
self-destroying  grief  for  the  sake  of  his  master.  Halbert 
gradually  revived,  and  listening  to  him,  cast  a  wishful  look 
on  the  lifeless  Marion. 

"  There  sleeps  the  pride  and  hope  of  Ellerslie,  the  mother 
with  her  child  !  Oh,  my  master,  my  widowed  master,"  cried 
he,  "  what  will  comfort  thee  !  " 

Fearing  the  ill  consequence  of  further  delay,  the  soldier 
again  interrupted  his  lamentations  with  arguments  for  flight; 


$2  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

and  Halbert,  recollecting  the  oratoiy  in  whicli  Wallace  had 
ordered  the  body  of  Lord  Mar  to  be  deposited,  named  it 
for  that  of  his  dead  lady.  Grimsby,  immediately  wrapping 
the  beauteous  corse  in  the  white  garments  which  hung 
about  it,  raised  it  in  his  arms;  and  was  conducted  by  Hal- 
bert to  a  little  chapel  in  the  heart  of  a  neighboring  cliff. 

The  still  weeping  old  man  removed  the  altar  ;  and 
Grimsby,  laying  the  shrouded  Marion  upon  its  rocky  plat- 
form, covered  her  with  the  pall  which  he  drew  from  the 
holy  table,  and  laid  the  crucifix  upon  her  bosom.  Halbert, 
when  his  beloved  mistress  was  thus  hidden  from  his  sight, 
threw  himself  on  his  knees  beside  her,  and  in  the  vehement 
language  of  grief  offered  up  a  prayer  for  her  departed  soul. 

"  Hear  me,  righteous  Judge  of  heaven  and  earth  !  "  cried 
he.  "  As  thou  didst  avenge  the  blood  of  innocence  shed  in 
Bethlehem,  so  let  the  gray  hairs  of  Heselrigge  be  brought 
down  in  blood  to  the  grave,  for  the  murder  of  this  inno- 
cent lady !  "  Halbert  kissed  the  cross  ;  and  rising  from  his 
knees,  went  weeping  out  of  the  chapel,  followed  by  the 
soldier. 

Having  closed  the  door  and  carefully  locked  it,  absorbed 
in  meditation  of  what  would  be  the  agonized  transports  of 
his  master  when  he  should  tell  him  these  grievous  tidings, 
Halbert  proceeded  in  silence,  till  he  and  his  companion,  in 
passing  the  well,  were  startled  by  a  groan. 

"  Here  is  some  one  !  "  cried  the  soldier. 

"  Is  it  possible  he  lives  ? "  exclaimed  Halbert,  bending 
down  to  the  edge  of  the  well  with  the  same  inquiry. 

."  Yes,"  feebly  answered  the  earl ;  "  I  still  exist,  but  am 
very  faint.  If  all  be  safe  above,  I  pray  remove  me  from 
this  dismal  place." 

Halbert  replied  that  it  was  indeed  necessary  he  should 
ascend  immediately ;  and  lowering  the  rope,  he  told  him 
to  tie  the  iron  box  to  it,  and  then  himself.  This  done, 
with  some  difficulty,  and  the  assistance  of  the  wondering 
soldier  (who  now  expected  to  see  the  husband  of  the  un- 
fortunate Lady  Wallace  emerge  to  the  knowledge  of  his 
loss),  he  at  last  effected  the  earl's  release.  For  a  few 
seconds  the  fainting  nobleman  supported  himself  on  his 
countryman's  shoulder,  while  the  fresh  morning  air  gradu- 
ally revived  his  exhausted  frame.     The  soldier  looked  at 


ELLERSLIE.  53 

his  gray  locks  and  furrowed  brow,  and  marvelled  how  such 
appendages  of  age  could  belong  to  the  man  whose  resistless 
valor  had  discomfited  the  fierce  determination  of  Arthur 
Heselrigge  and  his  myrmidons.  However,  his  doubts  of 
the  veteran  before  him  being  other  than  the  brave  Wallace 
were  soon  removed  by  the  earl  himself,  who  asked  for  a 
draught  of  the  water  which  trickled  down  the  opposite  hill. 
Halbert  went  to  bring  it ;  and  while  he  was  absent  Lord 
Mar  raised  his  eyes  to  inquire  for  Sir  William  and  the 
Lady  Marion.  He  started  when  he  saw  English  armor  on 
the  man  he  would  have  accosted,  and  rising  suddenly  from 
the  stone  on  which  he  sat,  demanded  in  a  stern  voice, 
"Who  art  thou.?" 

"An  Englishman,"  answered  the  soldier;  "one  who  does 
not,  like  the  monster  Heselrigge,  disgrace  the  name.  I 
would  assist  you,  noble  Wallace,  to  fly  this  spot ;  and  after 
that  I  shall  seek  refuge  abroad,  and  there  on  the  fields  of 
Guienne  demonstrate  my  fidelity  to  my  king." 

Mar  looked  at  him  steadUy.  "You  mistake;  I  am  not 
Sir  William  WaUace." 

At  that  moment  Halbert  came  up  with  the  water.  The 
earl  drank  it,  though  now,  from  the  impulse  surprise  had 
given  to  his  blood,  he  did  not  require  its  efficacy;  and 
turning  to  the  venerable  bearer,  he  asked  of  him  whether 
his  master  were  safe. 

"  I  trust  he  is,"  replied  the  old  man ;  "  but  you,  my  lord, 
must  hasten  hence.  A  foul  murder  has  been  committed 
here  since  he  left  it." 

"But  where  is  Lady  Wallace?"  asked  the  earl.  "If 
there  be  such  danger,  we  must  not  leave  her  to  meet  it." 

"  She  will  never  meet  danger  more  !  "  cried  the  old  man, 
clasping  his  hands ;  "  she  is  in  the  bosom  of  the  Virgin, 
and  no  second  assassin's  steel  can  reach  her  there  ! " 

"  What  ?  "  exclaimed  the  earl,  hardly  articulate  with  hor- 
ror ;  "  is  Lady  Wallace  murdered  ?  " 

Halbert  answered  only  by  his  tears. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  soldier;  "  and  detestation  of  so  unmanly 
an  outrage  provoked  me  to  desert  his  standard.  But  no 
time  must  now  be  lost  in  unavailing  lamentation.  Hesel- 
rigge will  return,  and  if  we  also  would  not  be  sacrificed  to 
his  rage  we  must  hence  immediately." 


54  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

The  earl,  struck  dumb  at  this  recital,  gave  the  soldier 
time  to  recount  the  particulars.  When  he  had  finished, 
Lord  Mar  saw  the  necessity  for  instant  flight,  and  ordered 
horses  to  be  brought  from  the  stables.  Though  he  had 
fainted  in  the  well,  the  present  shock  gave  such  a  tension 
to  his  nerves  he  found  he  could  now  ride  without  difficulty. 

H albert  went  as  he  commanded,  and  returned  with  two 
horses.  Having  only  amongst  rocks  and  glens  to  go,  he 
did  not  bring  one  for  himself ;  and  begging  the  good  soldier 
might  attend  the  earl  to  Bothwell,  he  added,  "He  will  guard 
you  and  this  box,  which  Sir  William  Wallace  holds  as  the 
apple  of  his  eye.  What  it  contains  I  know  not ;  and  none, 
he  says,  may  dare  to  search  into.  But  you  will  take  care 
of  it  for  his  sake,  till  more  peaceful  times  allow  him  to 
reclaim  his  own !  " 

"  Fatal  box,"  cried  the  soldier,  regarding  it  with  an  ab- 
horrent eye ;  "  that  was  the  leading  cause  which  brought 
Heselrigge  to  EllersHe." 

"  How  ? "  inquired  the  earl.  Grimsby  thei;i  briefly  related 
that  immediately  after  the  return  to  Lanark  of  the  detach- 
ment sent  to  EUerslie  under  the  command  of  Sir  Gilbert 
Hambledon,  an  officer  arrived  from  Douglas  (the  property 
of  which  he,  with  a  troop,  had  been  deputed  to  guard  in  the 
king's  name),  and  he  told  the  governor  that  Sir  William 
Wallace  had  that  evening  taken  a  quantity  of  treasure  from 
the  castle.  His  report  was,  that  the  English  soldiers  who 
stood  near  the  Scottish  knight  when  he  mounted  at  the 
castle  gate  had  seen  an  iron  box  under  his  arm ;  but  not 
suspecting  its  having  belonged  to  Douglas,  they  thought 
not  of  it  till  they  overheard  Sir  John  Monteith  as  he  passed 
through  one  of  the  galleries  muttering  something  about  gold 
and  a  box.  To  intercept  the  robber  amongst  his  native 
glens,  he  deemed  impracticable  ;  and  therefore  came  imme- 
diately to  lay  the  information  before  the  governor  of  Lanark, 
As  the  scabbard  found  in  the  affray  with  young  Arthur  had 
betrayed  the  victor  to  have  been  Sir  William  Wallace,  this 
intimation  of  his  having  been  also  the  instrument  of  wrest- 
ing from  the  grasp  of  Heselrigge  perhaps  the  most  valuable 
spoil  in  Douglas  exasperated  him  to  the  most  vindictive 
excess.  Inflamed  with  the  double  furies  of  revenge  and 
avarice,  he  ordered  out  a  new  troop,  and  placing  himself  at 


ELLERSLIE.  55 

its  head,  took  the  way  to  Ellerslie.  One  of  the  servants, 
whom  some  of  Hambledon's  men  had  seized  for  the  sake  of 
information,  on  being  threatened  with  the  torture,  confessed 
to  Heselrigge  that  not  only  Sir  Wilham  Wallace  was  in  the 
house  when  it  was  attacked,  but  that  the  person  whom  he 
rescued  in  the  streets  of  Lanark,  and  who  proved  to  be  a 
wealthy  nobleman,  was  there  also.  This  whetted  the  eager- 
ness of  the  governor  to  reach  Ellerslie.  And  expecting  to 
get  a  rich  booty,  without  the  most  distant  idea  of  the 
horrors  he  was  going  to  perpetrate,  a  large  detachment 
of  men  followed  him. 

"To  extort  money  from  you,  my  lord,"  continued  the 
soldier,  "  and  to  obtain  that  fatal  box,  were  his  main  objects. 
But  disappointed  in  his  darling  passion  of  avarice,  he  for- 
got he  was  a  man,  and  the  blood  of  innocence  glutted  his 
barbarous  vengeance." 

"  Hateful  gold  !  "  cried  Lord  Mar,  spurning  the  box  with 
his  foot;  "it  cannot  be  for  itself  the  noble  Wallace  so 
greatly  prizes  it !     It  must  be  a  trust." 

"  I  believe  it  is,"  returned  Halbert ;  "  for  he  enjoined  my 
lady  to  preserve  it  for  the  sake  of  his  honor.  Take  care  of 
it  then,  my  lord,  for  the  same  sacred  reason." 

The  Englishman  made  no  objection  to  accompany  the 
earl ;  and  by  a  suggestion  of  his  own,  Halbert  brought  him 
a  Scottish  bonnet  and  cloak  from  the  house.  While  he 
put  them  on,  the  earl  obsei^ved  that  the  harper  held  a  drawn 
and  blood-stained  sword  in  his  hand,  on  which  he  stead- 
fastly gazed.  "  Whence  came  that  horrid  weapon .? "  cried 
Lord  Mar. 

"  It  is  my  lady's  blood,"  replied  Halbert,  still  looking  on 
it ;  "I  found  it  where  she  lay  in  the  hall,  and  I  will  carry  it 
to  my  master.  Was  not  every  drop  of  her  blood  dear  to 
him  ?  and  here  are  many  !  "  As  the  old  man  spoke,  he  bent 
his  head  on  the  sword,  and  groaned  heavily. 

"England  shall  hear  more  of  this!"  cried  Mar,  as  he 
threw  him.self  across  the  horse.  "  Give  me  that  fatal  box ; 
I  will  buckle  it  to  my  saddle  bow.  Inadequate  will  be  my 
utmost  care  of  it,  to  repay  the  vast  sorrows  its  preservation 
and  mine  have  brought  upon  the  head  of  my  deliverer." 

The  Englishman  in  silence  mounted  his  horse,  and  Hal- 
bert opened  a  back  gate  that  led  to  the  hills  which  lay  be- 


56  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

tween  EUerslie  and  Bothwell  castle.  Lord  Mar  took  a 
golden-trophied  bugle  from  his  breast.  "  Give  this  to  your 
master;  and  tell  him  that  by  whatever  hands  he  sends  it, 
the  sight  of  it  shall  always  command  the  services  of  Donald 
Mar.  I  go  to  Bothwell  in  expectation  that  he  will  join  me 
there.  In  making  it  his  home  he  will  render  me  happy ; 
for  my  friendship  is  now  bound  to  him  by  bonds  which 
only  death  can  sever." 

H albert  took  the  horn,  and  promising  faithfully  to  repeat 
the  earl's  message,  prayed  God  to  bless  him  and  the  honest 
soldier.  A  rocky  promontory  soon  excluded  them  from  his 
sight;  and  a  few  minutes  more,  even  the  sound  of  their 
horses'  hoofs  was  lost  on  the  soft  herbage  of  the  winding  dell. 

"  Now  I  am  alone,  in  this  once  happy  spot !  Not  a  voice, 
not  a  sound !  Oh,  Wallace ! "  cried  he,  throwing  up  his 
venerable  arms,  "  thy  house  is  left  unto  thee  desolate,  and 
I  am  to  be  the  fatal  messenger." 

With  the  last  words,  he  struck  into  a  deep  ravine  which 
led  to  the  remote  solitudes  of  the  glen,  and  pursued  his  way 
in  dreadful  silence.  No  human  face  of  Scot  or  English 
cheered  or  scared  him  as  he  passed  along.  The  tumult  of 
the  preceding  night,  by  dispersing  the  servants  of  EUerslie, 
had  so  alarmed  the  poor  cottagers,  that  with  one  accord 
they  fled  to  their  kindred  on  the  hills ;  amid  those  fastnesses 
of  nature  to  await  tidings  from  the  valley,  that  all  was  still, 
and  they  might  return  in  peace.  H albert  looked  to  the 
right  and  left.  No  smoke,  curling  its  gray  mist  from  be- 
hind the  intersecting  rocks,  reminded  him  of  the  gladsome 
morning  hour,  or  invited  him  to  take  a  moment's  rest  from 
his  grievous  journey.  All  was  lonely  and  comfortless ;  and 
sighing  bitterly  over  the  wide  devastation,  he  concealed  the 
fatal  sword  under  his  cloak,  and  with  a  staff  which  he  broke 
from  a  withered  tree,  took  his  way  down  the  winding  craigs. 
Many  a  pointed  flint  pierced  his  aged  feet  as  he  explored 
the  almost  trackless  paths  which,  by  their  direction,  he 
hoped  would  lead  him  at  length  to  the  deep  caves  of 
Corie  Lin. 


CORIE  LIN.  57 


CHAPTER    IV. 

CORIE   LIN. 

AFTER  having  traversed  many  a  weary  rood  of,  to  him, 
before  untrodden  ground,  the  venerable  minstrel  of 
the  house  of  Wallace,  exhausted  by  fatigue,  sat  down  on 
the  declivity  of  a  steep  craig.  The  burning  beams  of  the 
midday  sun  now  beat  upon  the  rocks,  but  the  overshadow- 
ing foliage  afforded  him  shelter ;  and  a  few  berries  from 
the  brambles  which  knit  themselves  over  the  path  he  had 
yet  to  explore,  with  a  draught  of  water  from  the  passing 
brook,  offered  themselves  to  revive  his  enfeebled  limbs.  In- 
sufficient as  they  appeared,  he  took  them,  blessing  Heaven 
for  sending  even  these  ;  and  strengthened  by  half  an  hour's 
rest,  again  he  grasped  his  staff  to  pursue  his  way. 

After  breaking  a  passage  through  the  entangled  shrubs 
that  grew  across  the  only  possible  footing  in  this  solitary 
wilderness,  he  went  along  the  side  of  the  burn,  which  now 
at  every  turning  of  the  rocks  increased  in  depth  and  vio- 
lence. The  rills  from  above,  and  other  mountain  streams, 
pouring  from  abrupt  falls  down  the  craigs,  covered  him 
with  spray  and  intercepted  his  passage.  Finding  it  imprac- 
ticable to  proceed  through  the  rushing  torrent  of  a  cataract, 
whose  distant  roarings  might  have  intimidated  even  a 
younger  adventurer,  he  turned  from  its  tumbling  waters  as 
they  burst  upon  his  sight,  and  crept  on  his  hands  and  knees 
up  the  opposite  acchvity,  catching  by  the  fern  and  other 
weeds  to  stay  himself  from  falling  back  into  the  raging 
flood  below.  Prodigious  craggy  mountains  towered  above 
his  head  as  he  ascended.  In  parts,  the  rolling  clouds  which 
canopied  their  summits  seemed  descending  to  wrap  him  in 
their  "  fleecy  skirts ; "  and  in  others,  projecting  rocks,  bend- 
ing over  the  waters  of  the  glen,  left  him  only  a  narrow  shelf 
in  the  cliff  along  which  he  crept  till  it  brought  him  to  the 
mouth  of  a  cavern. 

He  must  either  enter  it,  or  return  the  way  he  came,  or 
attempt  the  descent  of  overhanging  precipices  which  noth- 


58  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

ing  could  penetrate  but  the  pinions  of  their  native  birds. 
Above  him  was  the  mountain.  Retread  his  footsteps  until 
he  had  seen  his  beloved  master  he  was  resolved  not  to  do. 
To  perish  in  these  glens  would  be  more  tolerable  to  him  ; 
for  while  he  moved  forward,  hope,  even  in  the  arms  of 
death,  would  cheer  him  with  the  whisper  that  he  was  in 
the  path  of  duty.  He  therefore  entered  the  cavity,  through 
which  he  soon  perceived  an  aperture,  and  emerging  on  the 
other  side  found  himself  again  on  the  margin  of  the  river. 
Having  attained  a  wider  bed,  it  left  him  a  still  narrower 
causeway  on  which  to  perform  the  remainder  of  his  journey. 

Huge  masses  of  rock,  canopied  with  a  thick  umbrage  of 
firs,  beech,  and  weeping  birch,  closed  over  the  glen  and 
almost  excluded  the  light  of  day.  More  anxious,  as  he  be- 
lieved by  the  increased  rapidity  of  the  stream  he  was  ap- 
proaching the  great  fall  near  his  master's  concealment, 
Halbert  redoubled  his  speed.  But  an  unlooked-for  obstacle 
impeded  him.  A  growing  gloom,  which  he  had  not  ob- 
served in  the  sky-excluded  valley,  having  entirely  over- 
spread the  heavens,  now  discharged  itself  amidst  peals  of 
thunder  in  sudden  and  heavy  floods  of  rain. 

Fearful  of  being  overwhelmed  by  the  streams  which 
now  on  all  sides  crossed  his  path,  he  kept  upon  the  edge 
of  the  river,  to  be  as  far  as  possible  from  the  influence 
of  their  violence.  And  thus  he  proceeded,  slowly  and 
with  trepidation,  through  numerous  defiles,  and  under  the 
plunge  of  many  a  mountain  torrent,  till  the  augmented 
roar  of  a  world  of  waters,  dashing  from  side  to  side  and 
boiling  up  with  the  noise  and  fury  of  the  contending 
elements  above,  told  him  he  was  not  far  from  the  fall  of 
Corie  Lin. 

The  spray  was  spread  in  so  thick  a  mist  over  the  glen,  he 
knew  not  how  to  advance.  A  step  farther  might  be  on  the 
firm  earth ;  but  more  probably  it  would  be  illusive,  and 
dash  him  into  the  roaring  Lin,  where  he  would  be  ingulfed 
at  once  in  its  furious  whirlpool.  He  paused  and  looked 
around  him.  The  rain  had  ceased ;  but  the  thunder  still 
rolled  at  a  distance,  and  echoed  tremendous  from  the  sur- 
rounding rocks.  Halbert  shook  his  gray  locks  streaming 
with  wet,  and  looked  towards  the  sun,  which  was  now  gild- 
ing with  its  last  rays  the  vast  sheets  of  falling  water. 


CORIE  LIN.  59 

"  This  is  thine  hour,  my  master,"  exclaimed  the  old  man, 
"  and  surely  I  am  too  near  the  Lin  to  be  far  from  thee." 

With  these  words  he  raised  the  pipe  that  hung  at  his 
breast,  and  blew  three  strains  of  the  sweet  air  with  which 
in  former  days  he  used  to  call  from  her  bower  that  fair  star 
of  evening,  the  beauteous  Marion,  who  was  now  departed 
forever  into  her  native  heaven.  The  notes  trembled  as  his 
agitated  breath  breathed  them  into  the  instrument;  but 
feeble  as  they  were,  and  though  the  roar  of  the  cataract 
might  have  prevented  their  reaching  a  less  attentive  ear 
than  that  of  Wallace,  yet  he  sprung  from  the  innermost 
recess  under  the  fall,  and  dashing  through  the  rushing 
waters,  was  the  next  instant  at  the  side  of  H  albert. 

•'  Faithful  creature  !  "  cried  he,  catching  him  in  his  arms, 
and  feeling  how  blissful  is  that  moment  which  ends  the 
anxious  wish  to  learn  tidings  of  all  that  is  dearest  in  the 
world  ;  "  how  fares  my  Marion  ?  " 

"  I  am  weary,"  cried  the  heart-stricken  old  man  ;  "  take 
me  within  your  sanctuary,  and  I  will  tell  you  all." 

Wallace  perceived  tliat  his  time-worn  servant  was  indeed 
exhausted ;  and  knowing  the  toils  and  hazards  of  the  peril- 
ous tract  he  must  have  passed  over  in  his  way  to  this  fear- 
ful solitude  and  remembering  how  as  he  sat  in  his  shelter 
he  had  dreaded  the  effects  of  the  storm  upon  so  aged 
a  traveller,  he  no  longer  wondered  at  the  dispirited  tone 
of  his  greeting,  and  readily  accounted  for  the  pale  coun- 
tenance and  tremulous  step  which  at  first  had  excited  his 
alarm. 

Giving  him  his  hand,  he  led  him  with  caution  to  the  brink 
of  the  Lin,  and  then  taking  him  in  his  arms  dashed  with 
him  through  the  tumbling  water  into  the  cavern  he  had 
chosen  for  his  asylum.  H albert  sunk  against  its  rocky 
side,  and  putting  forth  his  hand  to  catch  some  of  the  water 
as  it  fell,  drew  a  few  drops  to  his  parched  lips  and  swallowed 
them.  After  this  slight  refreshment  he  breathed  a  little, 
and  turned  his  eyes  wishfully  upon  his  anxious  master. 

"Are  you  sufficiently  recovered,  Halbert?  May  I  now 
ask  how  you  left  my  dearest  Marion  ?  " 

Halbert  dreaded  to  see  the  animated  light  which  cheered 
him  from  the  eyes  of  his  master  overclouded  with  the  Cim- 
merian horrors  his  story  was  to  unfold.     He  evaded  a  direct 


60  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

reply.     "  I  saw  your  guest  in  safety  ;  I  saw  him  and  the 
iron  box  on  their  way  to  Bothwell." 

"  What,"  inquired  Wallace,  "  were  we  mistaken  ?  Was 
not  the  earl  dead  when  we  looked  into  the  well  ?  "■ 

Halbert  replied  in  the  negative;  and  was  proceeding 
with  a  circumstantial  account  of  his  recovery  and  departure, 
when  Wallace  interrupted  him.  "  But  what  of  my  wife, 
Halbert?  Why  tell  me  of  others  before  of  her?  Surely 
she  remembers  me  !     Some  message  !  " 

"Yes,  my  dear  lord,"  cried  Halbert,  throwing  himself  on 
his  knees  in  a  paroxysm  of  mental  agony,  "  she  remembers 
you  where  best  her  prayers  can  be  heard.  She  kneels  for 
her  beloved  Wallace  before  the  throne  of  God !  " 

"  Halbert !  "  cried  Sir  William,  in  a  low  and  fearful  voice, 
"  what  do  you  say  ?  My  Marion  —  speak  !  —  tell  me  in  one 
word  she  lives  !  " 

"  In  heaven  !  " 

At  this  confirmation  of  a  sudden  terror  imbibed  from  the 
ambiguous  words  of  Halbert,  and  which  his  fond  heart 
would  not  allow  him  to  acknowledge  to  himself,  Wallace 
covered  his  face  with  his  hands,  and  fell  with  a  deep  groan 
against  the  side  of  the  cavern.  The  horrid  idea  of  prema- 
ture maternal  pains  occasioned  by  anguish  for  him,  of  her 
consequent  death,  involving  perhaps  that  of  her  infant, 
struck  him  to  the  soul.  A  mist  seemed  passing  over  his 
eyes;  life  was  receding,  and  gladly  did  he  believe  he  felt 
his  spirit  on  the  eve  of  joining  hers. 

In  having  declared  that  the  idol  of  his  master's  heart  no 
longer  existed  for  him  in  this  world,  Halbert  thought  he 
had  revealed  the  worst;  and  he  went  on,  "  Her  latest  breath 
was  spent  in  prayer  for  you.  '  My  Wallace,'  were  the  last 
words  her  angel  spirit  uttered  as  it  issued  from  her  bleeding 
wounds." 

The  cry  that  burst  from  the  heart  of  Wallace  as  he 
started  on  his  feet  at  this  horrible  disclosure  seemed  to 
pierce  through  all  the  recesses  of  the  glen,  and  with  an 
instantaneous  and  dismal  return  was  re-echoed  from  rock 
to  rock.  Halbert  threw  his  arms  round  his  master's  knees. 
Tlie  frantic  blaze  of  his  eyes  struck  him  with  affright. 
"Hear  me,  my  lord!  for  the  sake  of  your  wife,  now  an 
angel  hovering  near  you,  hear  what  I  have  to  say ! " 


CORIE  LIN.  6 1 

Wallace  looked  around  him  with  a  wild  countenance. 
"  My  Marion  near  me  !  Blessed  spirit !  Oh,  my  murdered 
wife,  my  unborn  babe  !  Who  made  those  wounds  ?  "  cried 
he,  throwing  himself  on  the  ground,  and  seizing  H albert 
with  a  tremendous  though  unconscious  grasp.  "  Tell  me, 
who  had  the  heart  to  aim  a  blow  at  that  angel's  life  ?  " 

"  The  governor  of  Lanark,"  replied  H  albert. 

"  How  ?  For  what  ?  "  demanded  Wallace,  with  the  ter- 
rific glare  of  madness  shooting  from  his  eyes.  "  My  wife, 
my  wife !  what  had  she  done  ?  " 

"  He  came  at  the  head  of  a  band  of  ruffians,  and  seizing 
my  lady,  commanded  her  on  the  peril  of  her  life  to  declare 
where  you  and  the  Earl  of  Mar  and  the  box  of  treasure 
were  concealed.  My  lady  persisted  to  refuse  him  informa- 
tion, and  in  a  deadly  rage  he  plunged  his  sword  into  her 
breast."  Wallace  clenched  his  hands  over  his  face,  and 
Halbert  went  on :  "  Before  he  aimed  a  second  blow,  I  had 
broken  from  the  men  who  held  me  and  thrown  myself  on 
her  bosom.  But  all  could  not  save  her  ;  the  villain's  sword 
penetrated  her  heart." 

"  Great  God  !  "  exclaimed  Wallace,  again  springing  on 
his  feet,  "  dost  thou  hear  this  murder  !  "  His  hands  were 
stretched  towards  heaven ;  then  falling  on  his  knees,  with 
his  eyes  fixed  and  his  arms  yet  extended,  "  Give  me  power, 
Almighty  Judge,"  cried  he,  "  to  assert  thy  justice.  Let  me 
avenge  this  angel's  blood,  and  then  take  me  to  Thyself  !  " 

"  My  gracious  master,"  cried  Halbert,  seeing  him  rise 
with  a  stern  composure,  "  here  is  the  fatal  sword.  The 
blood  on  it  is  sacred,  and  I  brought  it  to  you." 

Wallace  took  it  in  his  hand.  He  gazed  at  it,  touched  it, 
and  kissed  it  franticly.  The  blade  was  hardly  yet  dry,  and 
the  ensanguined  hue  came  off  upon  the  pressure.  "  Ma- 
rion, Marion!"  cried  he,  "is  it  thine?  Does  thy  blood 
stain  my  lip  ?  "  He  paused  for  a  moment,  leaning  his 
burning  forehead  against  the  fatal  blade  ;  then  looking  up 
with  a  terrific  smile,  "  Beloved  of  my  soul,  never  shall  this 
sword  leave  my  hand  till  it  has  drunk  the  life-blood  of  thy 
murderer !  " 

"What  is  it  you  intend,  my  lord  ?  "  cried  Halbert,  view- 
ing with  increased  alarm  the  resolute  ferocity  which  now 
blazed  from  every  part  of  Wallace's  countenance  and  seemed 


62  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

to  dilate  his  figure  with  more  than  mortal  daring.     "  What 
can  you  do  ?     Your  single  arm  —  " 

"  I  am  not  single.  God  is  with  me ;  I  am  his  avenger. 
Now  tremble,  tyranny,  I  come  to  hurl  thee  down  !  "  At 
the  word  he  sprang  from  the  cavern's  mouth,  and  had  al- 
ready reached  the  topmost  cliff  when  the  piteous  cries  of 
H albert  penetrated  his  ear.  They  recalled  him  to  recol- 
lection ;  and  returning  to  his  faithful  servant,  he  tried  to 
soothe  his  fears,  and  spoke  in  a  composed,  though  deter- 
mined tone.  "  I  will  lead  you  from  this  solitude  to  the 
mountains,  where  the  shepherds  of  Ellerslie  are  tending 
their  flocks.  With  them  you  will  find  a  refuge  till  you  have 
strength  to  reach  Bothwell  Castle.  Lord  Mar  will  protect 
you  for  my  sake." 

H albert  now  remembered  the  bugle  ;  and  putting  it  into 
his  master's  hand  with  its  accompanying  message,  he  asked 
for  some  testimony  in  return,  that  the  earl  might  know  he 
had  delivered  it  safely.  "  Even  a  lock  of  your  precious 
hair  my  beloved  master,  will  be  sufficient." 

"  Thou  shalt  have  it,  severed  from  my  head  by  this  ac- 
cursed steel,"  answered  Wallace,  taking  off  his  bonnet  and 
letting  his  amber  locks  fall  in  masses  on  his  shoulders. 
H albert  burst  into  a  fresh  flood  of  tears ;  for  he  remem- 
bered how  often  it  had  been  the  delight  of  Marion  to  comb 
these  bright  tresses,  and  to  twist  them  round  her  ivory 
fingers.  Wallace  looked  up  as  the  old  man's  sobs  became 
audible,  and  read  his  thoughts.  'It  will  never  be  again, 
H  albert !  "  cried  he,  and  with  a  firm  grasp  of  the  sword  he 
cut  off  a  large  handful  of  his  hair. 

"  Marion,  thy  blood  hath  marked  it !  "  exclaimed  he, 
"  and  every  hair  in  my  head  shall  be  dyed  of  the  same  hue 
before  this  sword  is  sheathed  upon  thy  murderers !  Here, 
Halbert,"  continued  he,  knotting  it  together,  "take  this  to 
the  Earl  of  Mar.  It  is  all,  most  likely,  he  will  ever  see 
of  William  Wallace.  Should  I  fall,  tell  him  to  look  on 
that,  and  in  my  wrongs  read  the  future  miseries  of  Scot- 
land, and  remember  that  God  armeth  the  patriot's  hand  ! 
Let  him  act  on  that  conviction,  and  Scotland  may  yet  be 
free." 

Halbert  placed  the  lock  in  his  bosom,  but  again  repeated 
his  entreaties  that  his  master  would   accompany  him  to 


CORIE  LIN.  63 

Bothwell  castle.     He  urged  the  consolation  he  would  meet 
from  the  good  earl's  friendship. 

"  If  he  indeed  regard  me,"  returned  Wallace,  "  for  my 
sake  let  him  cherish  you.  My  consolations  must  come  from 
a  higher  hand.  I  go  where  it  directs.  If  I  live,  you  shall 
see  me  again.  But  twilight  approaches,  we  must  away ; 
the  sun  must  not  again  rise  upon  Heselrigge  !  " 

H albert  now  followed  the  rapid  steps  of  Wallace,  who, 
assisting  the  feeble  limbs  of  his  faithful  servant,  drew  him 
up  the  precipitous  side  of  the  Lin,  and  then  leaping  from 
rock  to  rock  awaited  with  impatience  the  slower  advances 
of  the  poor  old  harper  as  he  crept  round  a  circuit  of  over- 
hanging cliffs  to  join  him  on  the  summit  of  the  craigs. 

Together  they  struck  into  the  most  inaccessible  defiles  of 
the  mountains,  and  proceeded,  till  by  the  smoke  whitening 
with  its  ascending  curls  the  black  sides  of  the  impending 
rocks,  Wallace  saw  he  was  near  the  objects  of  his  search. 
He  sprung  on  a  high  cliff  which  projected  over  this  moun- 
tain valley,  and  blowing  his  bugle  with  a  few  notes  of  the 
well  known  pibroch  of  Lanarkshire,  was  answered  by  the 
reverberation  of  a  thousand  echoes. 

At  the  loved  sounds  which  had  not  dared  to  visit  their 
ears  since  the  Scottish  standard  was  lowered  to  Edward, 
the  hills  seemed  teeming  with  life.  Men  rushed  from  their 
fastnesses,  and  women  with  their  babes  eagerly  followed, 
to  see  whence  sprung  a  summons  so  dear  to  every  Scottish 
heart.  Wallace  stood  on  the  cliff  like  the  newly  aroused 
genius  of  his  country.  His  long  plaid  floated  afar,  and  his 
glittering  hair,  streaming  on  the  blast,  seemed  to  mingle 
with  the  golden  fires  which  shot  from  the  heavens.  Wal- 
lace raised  his  eyes :  a  clash,  as  of  the  tumult  of  contending 
armies,  filled  the  sky,  and  flames  and  flashing  steel  and 
the  horrid  red  of  battle  streamed  from  the  clouds  upon  the 
hills. 

"  Scotsmen ! "  cried  Wallace,  waving  the  fatal  sword, 
which  blazed  in  the  glare  of  these  northern  lights  like  a 
flaming  brand,  "  behold  how  the  heavens  cry  aloud  to  you  ! 
I  come  in  the  midst  of  their  fires  to  call  you  to  vengeance  ! 
I  come  in  the  name  of  all  ye  hold  dear,  of  the  wives  of 
your  bosoms,  and  the  children  now  in  their  arms,  to  tell 
you  the  poniard  of  England  is   unsheathed.     Innocence, 


64  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

age,  and  infancy  fall  before  it !  Witli  tins  sword,  last 
night,  did  Heselrigge,  the  English  tyrant  of  Lanark,  break 
into  my  house  and  murder  my  wife  !  " 

The  shriek  of  horror  that  burst  from  every  mouth  inter- 
rupted Wallace.  "  Vengeance  !  vengeance  !  "  was  the  cry 
of  the  men,  while  tumultuous  lamentations  for  the  "  sweet 
lady  of  EUerslie  "  filled  the  air  from  the  women. 

Wallace  sprang  from  the  cliff  into  the  midst  of  his  brave 
countrymen.  "  Follow  me,  then,  to  strike  the  mortal 
blow !  " 

"  Lead  on  !  "  cried  a  vigorous  old  man ;  "  I  drew  this 
stout  claymore  last  in  the  battle  of  Largs.  '  Life  and  Alex- 
ander!" was  then  the  word  of  victorj' !  now,  ye  accursed 
Southrons,  ye  shall  meet  the  slogan  of  '  Death  and  Lady 
Marion  ! '  " 

"  Death  and  Lady  Marion  !  "  was  echoed  with  shouts 
from  mouth  to  mouth.  Everj'  sword  was  drawn ;  and  those 
hardy  peasants  who  had  none  seized  the  instruments  of 
pasturage,  and  armed  themselves  with  wolf-spears,  pick- 
axes, forks,  and  scythes. 

Sixty  resolute  men  now  ranged  themselves  around  their 
chief.  Wallace,  whose  widowed  heart  turned  icy  cold  at 
the  dreadful  slogan  of  his  Marion's  name,  more  fiercely 
grasped  his  sword,  and  murmured  to  himself :  "  From  this 
hour  may  Scotland  date  her  liberty,  or  Wallace  return  no 
more  !  My  faithful  friends,"  cried  he,  turning  to  his  men, 
and  placing  the  plumed  bonnet  on  his  head,  "  let  the  spirits 
of  your  fathers  inspire  your  souls !  Ye  go  to  assert  that 
freedom  for  which  they  died.  Before  the  moon  sets,  the 
tyrant  of  Lanark  shall  fall  in  blood." 

"Death  and  Lady  Marion!"  was  the  peahng  answer 
that  echoed  from  the  hills. 

Wallace  again  sprang  on  the  cliff.  His  brave  peasants 
followed  him ;  and  taking  their  rapid  march  by  a  near  cut 
through  a  hitherto  unexplored  defile  of  the  Cartlane  craigs, 
leaping  chasms  and  climbing  perpendicular  rocks,  they 
suffered  no  obstacles  to  impede  their  steps  as  they  rushed 
onward  like  lions  to  their  prey. 


LANARK  CASTLE.  65 


CHAPTER   V. 

LANARK   CASTLE. 

THE  women,  and  the  men  who  were  too  aged  to  engage 
in  so  desperate  an  enterprise,  now  thronged  around 
Halbert  to  ask  a  circumstantial  account  of  the  disaster 
which  liad  filled  them  with  so  much  horror. 

Many  were  the  tears  which  followed  his  recital.  Not  one 
of  his  auditors  was  an  indifferent  listener;  all  had  individu- 
ally partaken  of  the  tender  Marion's  benevolence.  Their 
sick-beds  had  been  comforted  by  her  charity ;  her  voice  had 
often  administered  consolation  to  their  sorrows ;  her  hand 
had  smoothed  their  pillows  and  placed  the  crucifix  before 
their  dying  eyes.  Some  had  recovered  to  bless  her,  and 
some  departed  to  record  her  virtues  in  heaven. 

"  Ah,  is  she  gone  ? "  cried  a  young  woman,  raising  her 
face,  covered  with  tears,  from  the  bosom  of  her  infant. 
"  Is  the  loveliest  lady  that  ever  the  sun  shone  upon,  cold  in 
the  grave  ?  Alas,  for  me  !  she  it  was  that  gave  me  the  roof 
under  which  my  baby  was  born.  She  it  was  that  when  the 
Southron  soldiers  slew  my  father  and  drove  us  from  our 
home  in  Ayrshire,  gave  to  my  old  mother  and  to  my  poor 
wounded  husband  the  cottages  by  the  burn-side.  Ah,  well 
can  I  spare  him  to  avenge  her  murder !  " 

The  night  being  far  advanced,  Halbert  retired  at  the 
invitation  of  this  young  woman  to  repose  on  the  heather 
bed  of  her  husband,  who  was  now  absent  with  Wallace. 
The  rest  of  the  peasantry  withdrew  to  their  coverts ;  while 
she  and  some  other  women,  whose  anxieties  would  not 
allow  them  to  sleep,  sat  at  the  cavern's  mouth  watching 
the  slowly  moving  hours. 

The  objects  of  their  fond  and  fervent  prayers,  Wallace 
and  his  little  army,  were  rapidly  pursuing  their  march.  It 
was  midnight ;  all  was  silent  as  they  hurried  through  the 
glen,  and  ascended  with  flying  footsteps  the  steep  acclivi- 
ties that  led  to  the  cliffs  which  overhung  the  vale  of  EUer- 
slie.  Wallace  must  pass  along  their  brow.  Beneath  was 
the  tomb  of  his  sacrificed  Marion  !  He  rushed  forward  to 
VOL  I.  —  5 


66  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

snatch  one  look  even  at  the  roof  which  shrouded  her 
beloved  remains. 

At  the  moment  before  he  mounted  the  intervening  height, 
a  soldier  in  English  armor  crossed  the  path  and  was  seized 
by  his  men.  One  of  them  would  have  cut  him  down,  but 
Wallace  turned  away  the  weapon.  "  Hold,  Scot ! "  cried 
he ;  "  you  are  not  a  Southron,  to  strike  the  defenceless. 
This  man  has  no  sword." 

The  reflection  on  their  enemy  which  this  plea  of  mercy 
contained  reconciled  the  impetuous  Scots  to  the  clemency 
of  their  leader.  The  terrified  soldier,  joyfully  recognizing 
the  voice  of  Wallace,  fell  on  his  knees,  exclaiming,  "It  is 
my  lord  !  It  is  Sir  William  Wallace  that  has  saved  my 
life  a  secoiid  time  !  " 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  asked  Wallace.  "  That  helmet  can 
cover  no  friend  of  mine." 

"I  am  your  servant  Dugald,"  returned  the  man;  "he 
whom  your  brave  arm  saved  from  the  battle-axe  of  Arthur 
Heselrigge." 

"  I  cannot  now  ask  you  how  you  came  by  that  armor ; 
but  if  you  be  yet  a  Scot,  throw  it  off,  and  follow  me." 

"  Not  to  Ellerslie,  my  lord  !  "  cried  he ;  "  it  has  been  plun- 
dered and  burned  to  the  ground  by  the  governor  of  Lanark." 

"  Then,"  exclaimed  Wallace,  inwardly,  and  striking  his 
breast,  "are  the  remains  of  my  beloved  Marion  forever 
ravished  from  my  eyes  !     Insatiate  monster!" 

"  He  is  Scotland's  curse,"  cried  the  veteran  of  Largs. 
"  Forward,  my  lord,  in  mercy  to  our  groans  !  " 

Wallace  had  now  mounted  the  craig  which  overlooked 
Ellerslie.  His  once  happy  home  had  disappeared,  and  all 
beneath  lay  a  heap  of  smoking  ashes.  He  hastened  from 
the  sight,  and  directing  the  point  of  his  sword  with  a  force- 
ful action  towards  Lanark,  re-echoed  with  supernatural 
strength,  "  Forward  !  " 

With  the  rapidity  of  lightning  his  little  host  flew  over  the 
hills,  reached  the  cliffs  which  divided  them  from  the  town, 
and  leaped  down  before  the  outward  trench  of  the  castle  of 
Lanark.  In  a  moment  Wallace  sprung  so  feeble  a  barrier, 
and  with  a  shout  of  death,. in  which  the  tremendous  slogan 
of  his  men  now  joined,  he  rushed  upon  the  guard  that  held 
the  northern  gate. 


LANARK  CASTLE.  6/ 

Here  slept  the  governor.  These  opponents  being  slain 
by  the  first  sweep  of  the  Scottish  swords,  Wallace  hastened 
onward,  winged  with  twofold  retribution.  The  noise  of 
battle  was  behind  him ;  for  the  shout  of  his  men  had 
aroused  the  garrison  and  drawn  its  soldiers,  half  naked,  to 
the  spot.  He  had  now  reached  the  door  of  the  governor. 
The  sentinel  who  stood  there  flew  before  the  terrible 
warrior  that  presented  himself.  All  the  mighty  vengeance 
of  Wallace  blazed  in  his  face,  and  seemed  to  surround 
his  figure  with  a  terrible  splendor.  With  one  stroke  of  his 
foot  he  drove  the  door  from  its  hinges,  and  rushed  into  the 
room. 

What  a  sight  for  the  now  awakened  and  guilty  Hesel- 
rififfire !  It  was  the  husband  of  the  defenceless  woman  he 
had  murdered,  come  in  the  power  of  justice  with  uplifted 
arm  and  vengeance  in  his  eyes !  With  a  terrific  scream  of 
despair,  and  an  outcry  for  the  mercy  he  dared  not  expect, 
he  fell  back  into  the  bed,  and  souglit  an  unavailing  shield 
beneath  its  folds. 

"  Marion  !  Marion  !  "  cried  Wallace,  as  he  threw  himself 
towards  the  bed,  and  buried  the  sword  yet  red  with  her 
blood,  through  the  coverlid,  deep  into  the  heart  of  her 
murderer.  A  fiend-like  yell  from  the  slain  Heselrigge  told 
him  his  work  was  done ;  and  drawing  out  the  sword,  he 
took  the  streaming  blade  in  his  hand,  "  Vengeance  is  satis- 
fied," cried  he ;  "  thus,  O  God,  do  I  henceforth  divide  self 
from  my  heart !  "  As  he  spoke,  he  snapped  the  sword  in 
twain,  and  throwing  away  the  pieces,  put  back  with  his 
hand  the  impending  weapons  of  his  brave  companions,  who 
having  cleared  the  passage  of  their  assailants  had  hurried 
forward  to  assist  in  ridding  their  country  of  so  detestable 
a  tyrant. 

"  'T  is  done,"  cried  he.  As  he  spoke  he  drew  down  the 
coverlid,  and  discovered  the  body  of  the  governor  weltering 
in  blood.  The  ghastly  countenance,  on  which  the  agonies 
of  hell  seemed  imprinted,  glared  horrible  even  in  death. 

Wallace  turned  away,  and  the  men,  exulting  in  the  sight, 
with  a  shout  of  triumph  exclaimed,  "  .So  fall  the  enemies  of 
Sir  William  Wallace  !  " 

"  Rather  so  fall  the  enemies  of  Scotland  '  "  cried  he. 
"  From  this  hour  Wallace  has  neither  love  nor  resentment 


68  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

but  for  her.  Heaven  has  heard  me  devote  myself  to  work 
our  country's  freedom,  or  to  die.  Who  will  follow  me  in 
so  just  a  cause  ? " 

"  All !     With  Wallace  forever  !  " 

The  new  clamor  which  this  resolution  excited,  intimi- 
dated a  fresh  band  of  soldiers  who  were  marching  across 
the  courtyard  to  intercept  their  enemy's  passage  from  the 
governor's  apartments.  They  hastily  retreated  ;  and  no 
exertions  of  their  officers  could  prevail  on  them  to  advance 
again,  or  even  to  appear  in  sight  of  the  resolute  Scots,  when, 
with  Wallace  at  their  head,  they  soon  afterwards  issued 
from  the  great  gate.  The  English  commanders,  seeing  the 
panic  of  their  men,  which  they  were  less  able  to  surmount 
as  the  way  to  the  gate  was  strewn  with  their  slain  comrades, 
fell  back  into  the  shadow  of  the  towers,  and  by  the  light  of 
the  moon  leisurely  viewed  the  departure  of  their  enemies 
over  the  trenches. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

CARTLANE   CRAIGS. 

THE  sun  was  rising  from  the  eastern  hills  when  the 
victorious  group  entered  the  mountain  glen  where 
their  families  lay.  The  cheerful  sounds  of  their  bugles 
aroused  the  sleepers  from  their  caves,  and  many  were  the 
gratulations  and  embraces  which  welcomed  the  warriors  to 
affection  and  repose. 

Wallace,  while  he  threw  himself  along  a  bed  of  purple 
heath  gathered  for  him  by  many  a  busy  female  hand,  lis- 
tened with  a  calmed  mind  to  the  fond  inquiries  of  Halbert, 
who  awakened  by  the  first  blast  of  the  horn  had  started 
from  his  shelter  and  hastened  to  hail  the  safe  return  of  his 
master.  While  his  faithful  followers  retired  each  to  the 
bosom  of  his  rejoicing  family^  the  fugitive  chief  of  Ellerslie 
remained  alone  with  the  old  man,  and  recounted  to  him  the 
success  of  his  enterprise  and  the  double  injuries  he  had 
avenged.  "The  assassin,"  continued  he,  "has  paid  with 
his  life  for  his  inexpiable  crime.     He  is  slain,  and  with  him 


CARTLANE   CRAIGS.  69 

several  of  Edward's  garrison.  My  vengeance  may  be  ap- 
peased; but  what,  O  H  albert,  can  bring  redress  to  my 
widowed  heart?  All  is  lost  to  me;  I  have,  then,  nothing 
to  do  with  this  world  but  as  I  am  the  instrument  of  good  to 
others.  The  Scottish  sword  has  now  been  redrawn  against 
our  foes ;  and,  with  the  blessing  of  Heaven,  I  swear  it 
shall  not  be  sheathed  till  Scotland  be  rid  of  the  tyranny 
which  has  slain  my  happiness !  This  night  my  gallant 
Scots  have  sworn  to  accomplish  my  vow ;  and  death  or 
liberty  must  be  the  future  fate  of  Wallace  and  his  friends." 

At  these  words,  tears  ran  down  the  cheeks  of  the  vener- 
able harper.  "  Alas,  my  too  brave  master,"  exclaimed  he, 
"  what  is  it  you  would  do  ?  Why  rush  upon  certain  destruc- 
tion ?  For  the  sake  of  her  memory  whom  you  deplore,  — 
in  pity  to  the  worthy  Earl  of  Mar,  who  will  arraign  himself 
as  the  cause  of  all  these  calamities,  and  of  your  death 
should  you  fall,  retract  this  desperate  vow  !  " 

"  No,  my  good  Halbert,"  returned  Wallace,  "  I  am  neither 
desperate  nor  inefficient ;  and  you,  faithful  creature,  shall 
have  no  cause  to  mourn  this  night's  resolution.  Go  to 
Lord  Mar,  and  tell  him  what  are  my  resolves.  I  have 
nothing  now  that  binds  me  to  life  but  my  country;  and 
henceforth  she  shall  be  to  me  as  mistress,  wife,  and  child. 
Would  you  deprive  me  of  thistle,  Halbert?  Would  you, 
by  persuading  me  to  resign  my  interest  in  her,  devote  me  to 
a  hermit's  seclusion  amongst  these  rocks  ?  —  for  I  will  never 
again  appear  in  the  tracks  of  men,  if  it  be  not  as  the 
defender  of  her  rights." 

"  But  where,  my  master,  shall  we  find  you,  should  the 
earl  choose  to  join  you  with  his  followers  ?  " 

"In  this  wilderness,  whence  I  shall  not  remove  rashlv. 
My  purpose  is  to  save  my  countrymen,  not  to  sacrifice  them 
in  needless  dangers." 

Halbert,  oppressed  with  sorrow  at  the  images  his  fore- 
boding heart  drew  of  the  direful  scenes  in  which  his  beloved 
master  had  pledged  himself  to  become  the  leader,  bowed 
his  head  with  submission  ;  and  leaving  Wallace  to  rest,  he 
retired  to  the  mouth  of  the  cavern  to  weep  alone. 

It  was  noon  before  the  chief  awaked  from  the  deathlike 
sleep  into  which  kind  nature  had  plunged  his  long  harassed 
senses.      He   opened   his   eyes   languidly ;    and   when   the 


70  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

sight  of  his  rocky  apartment  forced  on  him  the  recollection 
of  all  his  miseries,  he  uttered  a  deep  groan.  That  sad 
sound,  so  different  from  the  jocund  voice  with  which  Wal- 
lace used  to  issue  from  his  rest,  struck  on  the  heart  of  Hal- 
bert.  He  drew  near  his  master,  to  receive  his  last  commands 
for  Bothwell.  "  On  my  knees,"  added  he,  "  will  I  implore 
the  earl  to  send  you  succors." 

"  He  needs  not  prayers  for  that,"  returned  Wallace. 
"  But  depart,  dear,  worthy  Halbert ;  it  will  comfort  me  to 
know  you  are  in  safety.  And  whithersoever  you  go,  you 
carry  my  thanks  and  blessings  with  you ! " 

Old  age  opens  the  fountain  of  tears.  Halbert's  flowed 
profusely,  and  bathed  his  master's  hand.  Could  Wallace 
have  wept,  it  would  have  been  then ;  but  that  gentle  emol- 
lient of  grief  was  denied  him,  and  with  a  voice  of  assumed 
cheerfulness  he  renewed  his  efforts  to  encourage  his  de- 
sponding servant.  Half  persuaded  that  a  superior  Being 
did  indeed  call  his  beloved  master  to  some  extraordinary 
exertions  for  Scotland,  Halbert  bade  him  an  anxious  fare- 
well; and  then  withdrew  to  commit  him,  with  his  best 
blessings,  to  the  fidelity  of  the  companions  of  his  destiny. 
A  few  of  them  led  the  old  man  on  his  way  as  far  as  the 
western  declivity  of  the  hills  ;  and  then  bidding  him  good- 
speed,  he  took  the  remainder  of  his  journey  alone. 

After  traversing  many  a  weary  mile  which  lay  between 
Cartlane  craigs  and  Bothwell  castle,  he  reached  the  valley 
in  which  that  fortress  stands ;  and  calling  to  the  warder  at 
its  gates  that  he  came  from  Sir  William  Wallace,  he  was 
admitted  and  conducted  into  the  castle. 

Halbert  was  led  by  a  servant  into  a  spacious  chamber, 
where  the  earl  lay  upon  a  couch.  A  lady  richly  habited, 
and  in  the  bloom  of  life,  sat  at  his  head.  Another,  much 
younger  and  of  resplendent  beauty,  knelt  at  his  feet  with  a 
salver  of  medicinal  cordials  in  her  hand.  Near  to  them 
stood  a  young  man.  On  the  entrance  of  Halbert,  whom 
the  earl  instantly  recognized,  he  raised  himself  on  his  arm 
and  welcomed  him.  The  young  lady  rose,  and  the  young 
man  stepped  eagerly  forward. 

The  earl  inquired  anxiously  for  Sir  William  Wallace,  and 
asked  if  he  might  expect  him  soon  at  Bothwell. 

"  He  cannot  yet  come,  my  lord,"  replied  Halbert.     "  Hard 


CARTLANE    CRAIGS.  7 1 

is  the  task  he  has  laid  upon  his  valiant  head,  but  he  is 
avenged!  —  he  has  slain  the  governor  of  Lanark." 

A  faint  exclamation  broke  from  the  lips  of  the  young 
lady. 

"  How  ?  "  demanded  the  earl. 

H  albert  now  gave  a  particular  account  of  the  anguish  of 
Wallace  when  he  was  told  of  the  sanguinary  events  which 
had  taken  place  at  Ellerslie.  As  the  honest  harper  de- 
scribed in  his  own  ardent  language  the  generous  zeal  with 
which  the  shepherds  on  the  heights  took  up  arms  to  avenge 
the  wrong  done  to  their  chief,  the  countenance  of  the  young 
lady  and  of  the  youth  glowed  through  tears ;  they  looked 
on  each  other,  and  Halbert  proceeded:  — 

"When  my  dear  master  and  his  valiant  troop  were  pur- 
suing their  way  to  Lanark  he  was  met  by  Dugald,  the  man 
who  rushed  into  the  room  to  apprise  us  of  the  advance  of 
the  English  forces.  During  the  confusion  of  that  horrible 
night,  after  I  had  bound  up  his  wounds  and  left  him,  as  I 
thought,  to  expire  on  a  pallet  in  the  kitchen,  he  recovered 
in  the  midst  of  the  contention,  and  creeping  away,  concealed 
himself  from  the  soldiers  amongst  the  bushes  of  the  glen. 
When  all  was  over  he  came  from  his  hiding-place,  and 
finding  the  English  soldier's  helmet  and  cloak,  poor  Dugald, 
still  fearful  of  falling  in  with  any  straggling  party  of 
Heselrigge's,  disguised  himself  in  these  Southron  clothes. 
Exhausted  with  hunger  more  than  with  the  pain  of  his 
wounds,  he  was  venturing  towards  the  house  in  search  of 
food,  when  the  sight  of  armed  men  in  the  hall  made  him 
hastily  retreat  into  his  former  place  of  refuge.  He  did  not 
lie  long  before  his  alarm  was  increased  by  a  redoubled 
noise  from  the  house  ;  oaths  and  horrid  bursts  of  merriment 
seemed  to  have  turned  that  once  abode  of  honor  and  of 
loveliness  into  the  clamorous  haunts  of  ribaldry  and  rapine. 
In  the  midst  of  the  uproar  he  was  surprised  by  seeing 
flames  issue  from  the  windows;  soldiers  poured  from  the 
doors  with  shouts  of  triumph,  and  then  watched  by  the  fire 
while  their  comrades  carried  off  the  booty,  till  the  interior 
of  the  building  was  consumed,  and  the  rest  sunk  a  heap  of 
smoking  ruins. 

"The  work  completed,  these  horrid  ministers  of  devasta- 
tion left  the  vale  to  its  own  solitude.     Dugald,  after  waiting 


']2  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

a  long  time  to  ascertain  that  they  were  quite  gone,  crept 
from  the  bushes ;  and  ascending  the  cliffs  he  was  speeding 
to  the  mountains,  when  encountering  our  armed  shepherds, 
they  mistook  him  for  an  English  soldier  and  seized  him. 
The  chief  of  ruined  Ellerslie  recognized  his  servant;  and 
with  redoubled  indignation  his  followers  heard  the  history 
of  the  mouldering  ashes  before  them." 

"  Brave,  persecuted  Wallace  !  "  exclaimed  the  earl,  "  how 
dearly  was  my  life  purchased  !  But  proceed,  Halbert;  tell 
me  that  he  returned  safe  from  Lanark." 

Halbert  now  recounted  the  dreadful  scenes  which  took 
place  in  that  town ;  and  that  when  the  governor  fell,  Wal- 
lace made  a  vow  never  to  mingle  with  the  world  again  till 
Scotland  should  be  free. 

"  Alas  !  "  cried  the  earl,  "  what  miracle  is  to  effect  that  ? 
Surely  he  will  not  bury  those  noble  qualities,  that  bloom  of 
youth,  within  the  gloom  of  a  cloister !  " 

"  No,  my  lord,  he  has  retired  to  the  fastnesses  of  Cartlane 
craigs." 

"Why,"  resumed  Mar,  "why  did  he  not  rather  fly  to  me? 
This  castle  is  strong;  and  while  one  stone  of  it  remains 
upon  another,  not  all  the  hosts  of  England  should  take  him 
hence." 

"  It  was  not  your  friendship  that  he  doubted,"  returned 
the  old  man.  "  Love  for  his  country  compels  him  to  reject 
all  comfort  in  which  she  does  not  share.  His  last  words  to 
me  were  these  :  '  I  have  nothing  now  to  do  but  to  assert  the 
liberties  of  Scotland  and  to  rid  her  of  her  enemies.  Go  to 
Lord  Mar,  take  this  lock  of  my  hair,  stained  with  the  blood 
of  my  wife.  It  is  all,  most  likely,  he  will  ever  again  see  of 
William  Wallace.  Should  I  fall,  tell  him  to  look  on  that, 
and  in  my  wrongs  read  the  future  miseries  of  Scotland,  and 
remember  that  God  armeth  the  patriot ! '  " 

Tears  dropped  so  fast  from  the  young  lady's  eyes,  she 
was  obliged  to  walk  to  a  window  to  restrain  a  more  violent 
burst  of  grief. 

"  Oh,  my  uncle,"  cried  the  youth,  "surely  the  freedom  of 
Scotland  is  possible !  I  feel  in  my  soul  that  the  words  of 
the  brave  Wallace  are  prophetic." 

The  earl  held  the  lock  of  hair  in  his  hands;  he  regarded 
it,  lost  in  meditation.     "  God  armeth  the  patriot ! "     He 


CARTLANE   CRAIGS.  73 

paused  again,  his  before  pallid  cheek  taking  a  thousand 
animated  hues ;  then  raising  the  sacred  present  to  his  lips, 
"  Yes,"  cried  he,  "  thy  vow  shall  be  performed ;  and  while 
Donald  IVIar  has  an  arm  to  wield  a  sword,  or  a  man  to 
follow  to  the  field,  thou  shalt  command  both  him  and 
them ! " 

"  But  not  as  you  are,  my  lord ! "  cried  the  elder  lady. 
"  Your  wounds  are  yet  unhealed,  your  fever  is  still  raging  ! 
Would  it  not  be  madness  to  expose  your  safety  at  such  a 
crisis  ?  " 

"  I  shall  not  take  arms  myself,"  answered  he,  "  till  I  can 
bear  them  to  effect ;  meanwhile,  all  of  my  clan  and  of  my 
friends  that  I  can  raise  to  guard  the  life  of  my  deliverer 
and  to  promote  the  cause  must  be  summoned.  This  lock 
shall  be  my  pennon,  and  what  Scotsman  will  look  on  that 
and  start  from  his  colors  !  Here,  Helen,  my  child,"  cried 
he,  addressing  the  young  lady,  "  before  to-morrow's  dawn 
have  this  hair  wrought  into  my  banner.  It  will  be  a 
patriot's  standard,  and  let  his  own  irresistible  words  be  the 
motto,  '  God  armeth  me.'  " 

Helen  advanced  with  awful  trepidation.  Having  been 
told  by  the  earl  of  the  generous  valor  of  Wallace  and  of  the 
cruel  death  of  his  lady,  she  had  conceived  an  enthusiastic 
gratitude,  and  a  pity  deeper  than  language  could  express, 
for  the  man  who  had  lost  so  much  by  succoring  one  so  dear 
to  her.  She  took  the  lock  waving  in  yellow  light  upon  her 
hands,  and  trembling  with  emotion  was  leaving  the  room, 
when  she  heard  her  cousin  throw  himself  on  his  knees. 

"  I  beseech  you,  my  honored  uncle,"  cried  he,  "  if  you 
have  love  for  me  or  value  for  my  future  fame,  allow  me  to 
be  the  bearer  of  your  banner  to  Sir  William  Wallace." 

Helen  stopped  at  the  threshold  to  hear  the  reply. 

"  You  could  not,  my  dear  nephew,"  returned  the  earl, 
"  have  asked  me  any  favor  that  I  would  grant  with  so  much 
joy.  To-morrow  I  will  collect  the  peasantry  of  Bothwell, 
and  with  those  and  my  own  followers  you  shall  join  Wallace 
the  same  night." 

Ignorant  of  the  horrors  of  war  and  only  alive  to  the  glory 
of  the  present  cause,  Helen  sympathized  in  the  ardor  of 
her  cousin,  and  witli  a  thrill  of  delight  hurried  to  her 
apartment  to  commence  her  task. 


74  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

Far  different  were  the  sentiments  of  the  young  countess, 
her  stepmother.  As  soon  as  Lord  Mar  had  let  this  declara- 
tion escape  his  lips,  alarmed  at  the  effect  so  much  agita- 
tion might  have  on  his  enfeebled  constitution,  and  fearful 
of  the  perilous  cause  he  ventured  thus  openly  to  espouse, 
she  desired  his  nephew  to  take  the  now  comforted  Halbert 
(who  was  pouring  forth  his  gratitude  to  the  earl  for  the 
promptitude  of  his  orders)  and  see  that  he  was  attended 
with  hospitality. 

When  the  room  was  left  to  the  earl  and  herself,  with  an 
uneasy  presage  of  some  impending  evil,  she  ventured  to 
remonstrate  with  him  upon  the  facility  with  which  he  had 
become  a  party  in  so  treasonable  a  matter.  "  Consider,  my 
lord,"  continued  she,  "  that  Scotland  is  now  entirely  in  the 
power  of  the  English  monarch.  His  garrisons  occupy 
our  towns,  his  creatures  hold  every  place  of  trust  in  the 
kingdom." 

"  And  is  such  a  list  of  oppressions,  my  dear  lady,  to  be  an 
argument  for  longer  bearing  them.?  Had  1  and  other  Scot- 
tish nobles  dared  to  resist  this  overwhelming  power  after 
the  battle  of  Dunbar,  —  had  we,  instead  of  kissing  the 
sword  that  robbed  us  of  our  liberties,  kept  our  own  un- 
sheathed within  the  bulwarks  of  our  mountains,  Scotland 
would  now  be  free,  I  should  not  have  been  insulted  by  our 
English  tyrants  in  the  streets  of  Lanark,  and  to  save  my 
life,  William  Wallace  would  not  be  now  mourning  his 
murdered  wife,  and  without  a  home  to  shelter  him ! " 

Lady  Mar  paused  at  this  observation,  but  resumed: 
"  That  may  be  true.  But  the  die  is  cast,  Scotland  is  lost 
forever ;  and  by  your  attempting  to  assist  your  friend  in 
this  rash  essay  to  recover  it,  you  will  only  lose  yourself  also, 
without  preserving  him.  The  project  is  wild  and  needless. 
What  would  you  have  ?  Now  that  the  contention  between 
the  two  kings  is  past,  now  that  Baliol  has  surrendered  his 
crown  to  Edward,  is  not  Scotland  at  peace?' 

"  A  bloody  peace,  Joanna,"  answered  the  earl,  —  "  witness 
these  wounds.  A  usurper's  peace  is  more  destructive  than 
his  open  hostilities  ;  plunder  and  assassination  are  its  con- 
comitants. I  have  now  seen  and  felt  enough  of  Edward's 
jurisdiction.  It  is  time  I  should  awake,  and  like  Wallace 
determine  to  die  for  Scotland  or  to  avenge  her." 


CARTLANE   CRATGS.  75 

Lady  Mar  wept.  "  Cruel  Donald  !  is  this  the  reward  of 
all  my  love  and  duty  ?  You  tear  yourself  from  me,  you 
consign  your  estates  to  sequestration,  you  rob  your  children 
of  their  name ;  nay,  by  your  infectious  example,  you  stimu- 
late our  brother  Bothwell's  son  to  head  the  band  that  is  to 
join  this  madman  Wallace  !  " 

"  Hold,  Joanna !  "  cried  the  earl,  "  what  is  it  I  hear  ?  You 
call  the  hero  who  in  saving  your  husband's  life  reduced 
himself  to  these  cruel  extremities  a  madman  !  Was  he  mad 
because  he  prevented  the  Countess  of  Mar  from  being  a 
widow  ?  Was  he  mad  because  he  prevented  her  children 
from  being  fatherless  ?  " 

The  countess,  overcome  by  this  cutting  reproach,  threw 
herself  upon  her  husband's  neck.  "  Alas,  my  lord,"  cried 
she,  "all  is  madness  to  me  that  would  plunge  you  in  danger. 
Think  of  your  own  safety,  of  my  innocent  twins  now  in 
their  cradle,  should  you  fall.  Think  of  our  brother's  feel- 
ings, when  you  send  his  only  son  to  join  one  whom  perhaps 
he  will  call  a  rebel  in  arms  !  " 

"  If  Earl  Bothwell  considered  himself  a  vassal  of  Edward, 
he  would  not  now  be  with  Lord  Loch-awe.  From  the  mo- 
ment that  gallant  highlander  retired  to  Argyleshire,  the 
King  of  England  regarded  his  adherents  with  suspicion. 
Bothwell's  present  visit  to  Loch-awe,  you  see,  is  sufificient 
to  sanction  the  plunder  of  this  castle  by  i\\Q  peaceful  go\- 
ernment  you  approve.  You  saw  the  opening  of  proceed- 
ings, which  had  they  come  to  their  dreadful  issue,  where, 
my  dear  Joanna,  would  now  be  your  home,  your  husband, 
your  children  ?  It  was  the  arm  of  the  brave  chief  of  Ellers- 
lie  which  saved  them  from  destruction,  and  our  Helen  from 
a  ravisher." 

Lady  Mar  shuddered.  "  I  admit  the  truth  of  what  you 
say.  But,  oh  !  is  it  not  hard  to  put  my  all  to  the  hazard ; 
to  see  the  bloody  field  on  one  side  of  my  beloved  Donald, 
and  the  mortal  scaffold  on  the  other.?" 

"  Hush,"  cried  the  earl,  "it  is  Justice  that  beckons  me, 
and  Victory  will  receive  me  to  her  arms.  Let,  O  Power 
above!"  exclaimed  he,  hurried  away  with  enthusiasm,  "let 
the  victorious  field  for  Scotland  be  Donald  Mar's  grave, 
rather  than  doom  him  to  live  a  witness  of  her  miseries ! " 

"  I  cannot  st?y  to   hear  you ! "    answered  the  countess. 


'J 6  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

"  I   must  invoke  the  Virgin  to  give  me  courage  to  be  a 
patriot's  wife  ;  at  present  your  words  are  daggers  to  me." 

As  she  uttered  this  she  hastily  withdrew,  and  left  the 
earl  to  muse  on  the  past,  and  to  concert  plans  for  the 
portentous  future. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

BOTHWELL   CASTLE. 

MEANWHILE  the  fair  Helen  had  retired  to  her  own 
apartments.  Lord  Mar's  banner  being  brought  to 
her  from  the  armory,  she  sat  down  to  weave  into  its  silken 
texture  the  amber  locks  of  the  Scottish  chief.  Admiringr 
their  softness  and  beauty,  while  her  needle  flew  she  pictured 
to  herself  the  fine  countenance  they  had  once  adorned. 

The  duller  extremities  of  the  hair,  which  a  sadder  liquid 
than  that  which  now  dropped  from  her  eyes  had  rendered 
stiff  and  difficult  to  entwine  with  the  warp  of  the  silk, 
seemed  to  adhere  to  her  fingers.  Helen  almost  shrank 
from  the  touch.  "  Unhappy  lady  !  "  sighed  she  to  herself, 
"what  a  pang  must  have  rent  her  heart  when  the  stroke 
of  so  cruel  a  death  tore  her  from  such  a  husband!  And 
how  must  he  have  loved  her,  when  for  her  sake  he  thus 
forswears  all  future  joys  but  those  which  camps  and  victo- 
ries may  yield !  Ah,  what  would  I  give  to  be  my  cousin 
Murray,  to  bear  this  pennon  at  his  side !  What  would  I 
give  to  reconcile  so  admirable  a  being  to  happiness  again,  — 
to  weep  his  griefs,  or  to  smile  him  into  comfort!  To  be 
that  man's  friend  would  be  a  higher  honor  than  to  be 
Edward's  queen." 

While  her  heart  was  thus  discoursing  with  itself  a  page 
opened  the  door,  saying  that  her  cousin  begged  admittance. 
She  had  fastened  the  flowing  charge  into  its  azure  field, 
and  was  embroidering  the  motto  when  she  replied  to  the 
request  of  Murray. 

"  You  know  not,  my  good  old  man,"  said  the  youth  to 
Halbert,  as  he  conducted  him  across  the  galleries,  "  what 
a  noble  mind  is  contained  in  that  lovely  young  creature.     I 


BOTH  WELL    CASTLE.  "J  "J 

was  brought  up  with  her ;  and  to  the  sweet  contagion  of  her 
taste  do  I  owe  that  love  of  true  glory  which  carries  me  to 
the  side  of  Sir  William  Wallace.  The  virtuous  only  can 
awaken  an  interest  in  her  heart ;  and  in  these  degenerate 
days,  long  might  have  been  its  sleep  had  not  the  history 
which  my  uncle  recounted  of  your  brave  master  aroused 
her  attention,  and  filled  her  with  an  admiration  equal  to 
my  own.  I  know  she  rejoices  in  my  present  destination ; 
and  to  prevent  her  hearing  from  your  own  lips  all  you 
have  now  told  me  of  the  mild  as  well  as  heroic  virtues  of 
my  intended  commander,  and  of  the  heroism  of  his  angelic 
wife,  would  be  depriving  her  of  a  mournful  pleasure,  only 
to  be  appreciated  by  such  a  heart  as  hers." 

The  gray  haired  bard  of  Ellerslie,  who  had  ever  received 
the  dearest  rewards  for  his  songs  in  the  smiles  of  its  mis- 
tress, did  not  require  persuasion  to  appear  before  the  gentle 
Lady  of  Mar,  and  to  recite  in  her  ears  the  story  of  departed 
loveliness,  fairer  than  poet  ever  feigned. 

Helen  rose  as  he  and  her  cousin  appeared.  Murray 
approved  the  execution  of  her  work,  and  Halbert  with  a 
full  heart  took  the  pennon  in  his  hand.  "  Ah,  little  did  my 
dear  lady  think,"  exclaimed  he,  "  that  one  of  these  loved 
locks  would  ever  be  suspended  on  a  staff  to  lead  men  to 
battle  !  What  changes  have  a  few  days  made  !  She,  the 
gentlest  of  women,  laid  in  a  bloody  grave;  and  he,  the 
most  benevolent  of  human  beings,  wielding  an  exterminating 
sword  !  " 

"You  speak  of  her  grave,  venerable  man,"  inquired 
Helen :  "  had  you,  then,  an  opportunity  of  performing  the 
rites  of  sepulture  to  her  remains .'' " 

"  No,  madam,"  replied  he  :  "  after  the  worthy  English 
soldier,  now  in  this  castle,  assisted  me  to  place  her  precious 
body  in  my  lord's  oratory,  I  had  no  opportunity  of  returning 
to  give  her  a  more  holy  grave." 

"  Alas,"  cried  Helen,  "  then  her  sacred  relics  have  been 
consumed  in  the  burning  house  !  " 

"I  hope  not,"  rejoined  Halbert;  "the  chapel  I  speak  of 
is  at  some  distance  from  the  main  building.  It  was  exca- 
vated in  the  rock  by  Sir  Ronald  Crawford  when  he  gave 
the  name  of  Ellerslie  to  this  estate  in  compliment  to  Sir 
William's  place  of  birth  in  Renfrewshire,  and  bestowed  it 


yS  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

on  the  bridal  pair  as  a  nuptial  present.  Since  then,  the 
Ellerslie  of  Clydesdale  has  been  as  dear  to  my  master  as 
that  of  the  Carth ;  and  well  it  might,  for  it  was  not  only 
the  home  of  all  his  wedded  joys,  but  under  its  roof  his 
mother,  the  Lady  Margaret  Crawford,  drew  her  first  breath. 
Ah,  woe  is  me  !  that  happy  house  is  now,  like  herself, 
reduced  to  cold,  cold  ashes.  She  married  Sir  Malcolm 
Wallace,  and  he  is  gone  too.  Both  the  parents  of  my 
honored  master  died  in  the  bloom  of  their  lives  ;  and  a 
grievous  task  will  it  be  to  him  who  is  to  tell  the  good  Sir 
Ronald  that  the  last  sweet  flower  of  Ellerslie  is  also  cut 
down,  that  the  noblest  branch  of  his  own  stem  is  torn  from 
the  soil  to  which  he  had  transplanted  it,  and  cast  far  away 
into  the  wilderness  !  "  ^ 

The  tears  of  the  venerable  harper  bore  testimony  to  his 
inward  resolve  that  this  messenger  should  not  be  himself. 
Lady  Helen,  who  had  unconsciously  fallen  into  a  revery 
during  the  latter  part  of  his  speech,  now  spoke  ;  but  it 
was  with  timidity.  An  idea  had  struck  her,  by  which  she 
might  demonstrate  her  gratitude  for  the  preservation  of  her 
father,  and  perhaps  impart  some  consolation  to  the  heart 
of  the  widowed  chief. 

"  Then  we  may  hope,"  asked  she,  "  that  the  oratory  has 
not  only  escaped  the  flames,  but  perhaps  the  violation  of 
the  English  soldiers?  Would  it  not  comfort  your  lord  to 
have  his  lovely  wife  entombed  according  to  the  rites  of  the 
Church  ?  " 

"  Surely,  my  lady ;  but  how  can  that  be  done  ?  He  thinks 
her  remains  were  lost  in  the  conflagration  of  Ellerslie ;  and 
for  fear  of  precipitating  him  into  the  new  dangers  which 
might  have  menaced  him  had  he  sought  to  bring  away  her 
body,  I  did  not  disprove  his  mistake." 

'  The  Ellerslie  in  Renfrewshire  here  referred  to,  and  which  was  the 
birthplace  of  Sir  William  Wallace  and  the  hereditary  property  of  his 
father  Sir  Malcolm  Wallace,  was  situated  in  the  Abbey  parish  of  Paisley, 
three  miles  west  of  the  town  of  Paisley,  and  nine  from  Glasgow.  A  large 
and  old  oak,  still  called  Wallace's  Oak,  stands  close  to  the  road  from 
Paisley  to  Beith  ;  and  within  a  short  distance  from  it  once  stood  the 
manor  of  Ellerslie.  This  venerable  name  is  now  corrupted  into  Elderslie  ; 
and  the  estate  has  become  the  property  of  Archibald  Spiers,  Esq.,  M.  P. 
for  Renfrewshire.  For  this  topographical  account  I  am  indebted  to  a 
Renfrewshire  gentleman. 


BOTHWELL   CASTLE.  79 

"But  her  body  shall  be  brought  away,"  rejoined  Lady 
Helen  ;  "  it  shall  have  holy  burial." 

"To  effect  this,  command  my  services,"  exclaimed 
Murray. 

Helen  thanked  him  for  an  assistance  which  would  render 
the  completion  of  her  design  easy.  The  English  soldier 
as  guide,  and  a  troop  from  Bothwell,  she  said,  must  ac- 
company him. 

"Alas,  my  young  lord,"  interposed  Halbert,  "suppose 
you  should  meet  the  English  still  loitering  there ! " 

"And  what  of  that,  my  honest  Halbert?  Would  not  I 
and  my  trusty  band  make  them  clear  the  way?  Is  it  not 
to  give  comfort  to  the  deliverer  of  my  uncle  that  I  seek  the 
glen  ?  And  shall  anything  in  mortal  shape  make  Andrew 
Murray  turn  his  back?  No,  Halbert,  I  was  not  born  on 
Saint  Andrew's  day  for  nought;  and  by  his  bright  cross 
I  swear,  either  to  lay  Lady  Wallace  in  the  tomb  of  my 
ancestors,  or  to  leave  my  bones  to  blanch  on  the  grave 
of  hers  !  " 

Helen  approved  the  resolution  of  her  cousin ;  and  be- 
lieving that  the  now  ravaged  EUerslie  had  no  attractions 
to  hold  marauders  amongst  its  ruins,  she  dismissed  Lord 
Andrew  to  make  his  preparations,  and  turned  to  prefer  her 
suit  accordingly  to  her  father. 

Ere  Halbert  withdrew  he  respectfully  put  her  hand  to 
his  lips.  "Good-night,"  continued  she;  "ere  you  see  me 
again,  I  trust  the  earthly  part  of  the  angel  now  in  paradise 
will  be  safe  within  these  towers."  He  poured  a  thousand 
blessings  on  her  head ;  and  almost  thought  that  he  saw  in 
her  beautiful  form  one  of  heaven's  inhabitants,  sent  to  bear 
away  the  body  as  well  as  the  soul  of  his  dear  mistress  to 
her  divine  abode. 

On  entering  her  father's  apartment,  Lady  Helen  found 
him  alone.  She  repeated  to  him  the  substance  of  her  con- 
versation with  Wallace's  faithful  servant.  "  And  my  wish 
is,"  continued  she,  "to  have  the  murdered  lady's  remains 
entombed  in  the  cemetery  of  this  castle." 

The  earl  approved  her  request,  accompanying  his  assent 
with  expressions  of  satisfaction  at  the  filial  affection  which 
so  lively  a  gratitude  to  his  preserver  evinced. 

"  May  I  then,  my  dear  father,"  returned  she,  "have  your 


80  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

permission  to  pay  our  debt  of  gratitude  to  Sir  William 
Wallace,  to  the  utmost  of  our  power?  For  by  such  means 
only  can  I  demonstrate  my  love  for  the  best  of  parents, 
and  my  homage  to  that  virtue  which  you  first  taught  me 
to  revere." 

"  You  are  at  liberty,  my  noble  child,  to  do  as  you  please. 
My  vassals,  my  coffers,  all  are  at  your  command." 

Helen  kissed  his  hand.  "  May  I  have  what  I  please 
from  the  armory  ?  " 

"  Command  even  there,"  said  the  earl,  "  for  I  know  your 
uncle  Bothwell  would  think  that  too  much  cannot  be  done 
for  the  defender  of  his  country." 

Helen  threw  her  arms  about  her  father's  neck,  and 
thanking  him  tenderly,  with  a  beating  heart  retired  to  pros- 
ecute her  plans.  Murray,  who  met  her  in  the  anteroom, 
informed  her  that  fifty  men,  the  sturdiest  in  the  glen, 
awaited  her  orders;  and  Helen,  telling  her  cousin  of  the 
earl's  approval,  took  the  sacred  banner  in  her  hand  and 
proceeded  to  the  gallery  in  the  hall. 

The  moment  she  appeared,  a  shout  of  joy  bade  her 
welcome.  She  waved  her  hand  in  token  of  silence;  and 
smiling  with  a  benignity  that  spoke  her  angel  errand,  "  My 
brave  friends,"  said  she,  "  I  thank  you  for  the  ardor  with 
which  by  this  night's  enterprise  you  assist  me  to  pay  the 
everlasting  tribute  that  is  due  to  the  man  who  has  preserved 
to  me  the  blessing  of  so  good  a  father." 

"  And  to  us,  noble  lady,"  cried  they,  "  the  most  generous 
of  chiefs ! " 

"  With  that  spirit,  then,"  returned  she,  "  I  address  you 
with  greater  confidence.  Who  amongst  you  will  shrink 
from  following  this  standard  to  the  field  of  glory  ?  Who 
will  refuse  to  make  himself  the  especial  guardian  of  the  life 
of  Sir  William  Wallace ;  and  who,  in  the  moment  of  peril, 
will  not  stand  by  him  to  the  last?" 

"  None  are  here,"  cried  a  young  man,  advancing  before 
his  fellows,  "  who  would  not  gladly  die  in  his  defence." 

"  We  swear  it ! "  burst  from  every  lip  at  once. 

She  bowed  her  head,  and  said,  "  Return  from  Ellerslie 
to-morrow  with  the  bier  of  its  sainted  mistress.  I  will  then 
bestow  upon  every  man  in  this  band  a  war-bonnet  plumed 
with  my  colors.     This  banner  will  lead  you  to  the  side  of 


BOTHWELL    CASTLE.  8 1 

Wallace.  In  the  shock  of  battle,  look  at  its  golden  ensign, 
and  remember  that  God  not  only  armeth  thepatriofs  hand., 
but  shieldeth  his  heart.  In  this  faith,  be  ye  the  bucklers 
which  Heaven  sends  to  guard  the  life  of  Wallace;  and  so 
honored,  exult  in  your  station,  and  expect  the  future  grati- 
tude of  Scotland." 

"  Wallace  and  Lady  Helen  !  To  death  or  liberty  !  "  was 
the  animated  response  to  this  exhortation ;  and  smiling  and 
kissing  her  hand  to  them  in  token  of  thanks,  she  retired  in 
the  midst  of  their  acclamations.  Mun-ay,  ready  armed  for 
his  expedition,  met  her  at  the  door.  Restored  to  his  usual 
vivacity  by  the  spirit-moving  emotions  which  the  present 
scenes  awakened  in  his  heart,  he  forgot  the  horrors  of  con- 
tention in  the  glory  of  victory,  and  giving  her  a  gay  saluta- 
tion, led  her  back  to  her  apartments,  where  the  English 
soldier  awaited  her  commands.  Lady  Helen,  with  a  gentle 
grace,  acknowledged  her  obhgations  to  the  Southron  for 
this  acquiescence. 

"  Lands  in  Mar  shall  be  yours,"  added  she,  "or  a  post  of 
honor  in  the  little  army  the  earl  is  now  going  to  raise. 
Speak  but  the  word,  and  you  shall  find,  worthy  English- 
man, that  neither  a  Scotsman  nor  his  daughter  knows  what 
it  is  to  be  ungratefvil." 

The  blood  mounted  into  the  soldier's  cheek.  "  I  thank 
you,  sweetest  lady,  for  this  generous  offer ;  but  as  I  am  an 
Englishman,  I  dare  not  accept  it.  My  arms  are  due  to  my 
own  country ;  and  whether  I  am  tied  to  it  by  lands  and 
possessions,  or  have  nought  but  my  English  blood  and  my 
oath  to  my  king  to  bind  me,  still  I  should  be  equally  un- 
warranted in  breaking  those  bonds.  I  left  Heselrigge 
because  he  dishonored  my  country ;  and  for  me  to  forswear 
her  would  be  to  make  myself  infamous.  Hence,  all  I  ask 
is,  that  after  I  have  this  night  ooeyed  your  gracious  com- 
mands, the  Earl  of  Mar  will  allow  me  to  depart  for  the 
nearest  port." 

Lady  Helen  replied  that  she  revered  his  sentiments  too 
sincerely  to  insult  them  by  any  persuasions  to  the  contrary ; 
and  taking  a  diamond  clasp  from  her  bosom,  she  put  it 
into  his  hand.  "  Wear  that  in  remembrance  of  your  virtue, 
and  of  Helen  Mar's  gratitude." 

The   man  kissed  it  respectfully,  and  bowing,  swore  to 

VOL.   I.  —  6 


82  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

preserve  so  distinguishing  a  gift  to  the  latest  hour  of  his 
existence. 

Helen  retired  to  her  chamber  to  finish  her  task;  and 
Murray,  bidding  her  good-night,  repaired  to  the  earl's  apart- 
ments to  take  his  final  orders  before  he  and  his  troop  set 
out  for  the  ruins  of  EUerslie. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

THE   CHAPEL. 

NIGHT  having  passed  over  the  sleepless  heads  of  the 
inhabitants  of  Bothwell  castle,  as  soon  as  the  sun 
arose  the  Earl  of  Mar  was  carried  from  his  chamber  and 
laid  on  a  couch  in  the  state  apartment.  His  lady  had  not 
yet  left  the  room  of  his  daughter,  by  whose  side  she  had 
lain  the  whole  night  in  hopes  of  infecting  her  with  the  fears 
which  possessed  herself. 

Helen  replied  that  she  could  see  no  reason  for  direful 
apprehensions  if  her  father,  instead  of  joining  Wallace  in 
person,  would,  when  he  had  sent  him  succors,  retire  with 
his  family  into  the  Highlands,  and  there  await  the  issue  of 
the  contest.  "  It  is  too  late  to  retreat,  my  dear  madam," 
continued  she.  "  The  first  blow  against  the  public  enemy 
was  struck  in  defence  of  Lord  Mar;  and  would  you  have 
my  father  act  so  base  a  part  as  to  abandon  his  preserver 
to  the  wrath  such  generous  assistance  has  provoked  ?  " 

"  Alas,  my  child,"  answered  the  countess,  "  what  great 
service  will  he  have  done  to  me  or  to  your  father  if  he  de- 
livers him  from  one  danger  only  to  plunge  him  into  another  ? 
Edward's  power  in  this  country  is  too  great  to  be  resisted 
now.  Have  not  most  of  our  barons  sworn  fealty  to  him  ; 
and  are  not  the  potent  families  of  the  Cummin,  the  Sou- 
lis,  and  the  March  all  in  his  interest?  You  may  perhaps 
say  that  most  of  these  are  my  relations,  and  that  I  may 
turn  them  which  way  I  will ;  but  if  I  have  no  influence 
with  a  husband,  it  would  be  madness  to  expect  it  over 
more  distant  kindred.  How,  then,  with  such  a  host 
against  him,  can  your  infatuated  father  venture   without 


THE   CHAPEL.  83 

despair   to  support  the  man   who  breaks  the  peace   with 
England  ?  " 

"  Who  can  despair,  my  dear  madam,"  returned  Helen, 
"  in  so  just  a  cause  ?  Let  us  rather  believe  with  our  good 
King  David,  that  '  Honor  must  hope  always ;  for  no  real 
evil  can  befall  the  virtuous,  either  in  this  world  or  the  next ! ' 
Were  I  a  man,  the  justice  that  leads  on  the  brave  Wallace 
would  nerve  my  arm  with  the  strength  of  a  host.  Besides, 
look  at  our  country ;  God's  gift  of  freedom  is  stamped 
upon  it.  Our  mountains  are  his  seal.  Plains  are  the  proper 
territories  of  tyranny  ;  there  the  armies  of  a  usurper  may 
extend  themselves  with  ease,  leaving  no  corner  unoccupied 
in  which  patriotism  might  shelter  or  treason  hide.  But 
mountains,  glens,  morasses,  and  lakes  set  bounds  to  conquest ; 
and  amidst  these  is  the  impregnable  seat  of  liberty.  To 
such  a  fortress,  to  the  deep  defiles  of  Loch  Catherine  or  to  the 
cloud-piercing  heights  of  Corryarraick,  I  would  have  my 
father  retire.  In  safety  he  may  there  watch  the  footsteps  of 
our  mountain-goddess,  till,  led  by  her  immortal  champion, 
she  plants  her  standard  forever  upon  the  hills  of  Scotland." 

The  complexion  of  the  animated  Helen  shone  with  a 
radiant  glow.  Her  heart  panted  with  a  foretaste  of  the 
delight  she  would  feel  when  all  her  generous  wishes  should 
be  fulfilled  ;  and  pressing  the  now  completed  banner  to  her 
breast  with  an  enthusiasm  she  believed  prophetic,  her  lips 
moved,  though  her  voice  did  not  utter  the  inexpressible 
rapture  of  her  heart. 

Lady  Mar  looked  at  her.  "  It  is  well,  romantic  girl,  that 
you  are  of  my  own  powerless  sex.  Had  it  been  otherwise, 
your  mad-headed  disobedience  would  have  made  me  rue  the 
day  I  became  your  father's  wife.'' 

"  Sex,  madam,"  returned  Helen,  "  could  not  have  altered 
my  sense  of  duty.  Whether  man  or  woman,  I  would  obey 
you  in  all  things  consistent  wnth  my  duty  to  a  higher  power; 
but  when  it  commands,  then,  by  the  ordinance  of  Heaven, 
we  must  leave  father  and  mother  and  cleave  unto  it." 

"  And  what,  O  foolish  Helen,  do  you  call  a  higher  duty 
than  that  of  a  child  to  a  parent  or  a  husband  to  his  wife  ? " 

"  Duty  of  any  kind  cannot  be  transgressed  with  innocence. 
Nor  would  it  be  any  relinquishing  of  duty  to  you  should  my 
father  leave  you  to  take  up  arms  in  the  assertion  of  his 


84  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

country's  rights.  Her  rights  are  your  safety;  and  there- 
fore in  defending  them  a  husband  or  a  son  best  shows  his 
sense  of  domestic  as  well  as  of  public  duty." 

"Who  taught  you  this  sophistry,  Helen?  Not  your 
heart,  for  it  would  start  at  the  idea  of  your  father's  blood." 

Helen  turned  pale.  "  Perhaps,  madam,  had  not  the  pre- 
sentation of  my  father's  blood  occasioned  such  malignity 
from  England  that  nothing  but  an  armed  force  can  deliver 
his  preserver,  I  too  might  have  been  content  to  see  Scot- 
land in  slavery.  But  now  to  wish  my  father  to  shrink 
behind  the  excuse  of  far-strained  family  duties,  and  to 
abandon  Sir  William  Wallace  to  the  bloodhounds  who  hunt 
his  life,  would  be  to  devote  the  name  of  Mar  to  infamy, 
and  deservedly  bring  a  curse  upon  his  offspring." 

"  Then  it  is  to  preserve  Sir  William  Wallace  you  are  thus 
anxious !  Your  spirit  of  freedom  is  now  disallowed,  and 
all  this  mighty  rout  is  made  for  him.  My  husband,  his 
vassals,  your  cousin,  and,  in  short,  the  sequestration  of  the 
estates  of  Mar  and  Bothwell,  are  all  to  be  put  to  the  hazard 
on  account  of  a  frantic  outlaw,  to  whom,  since  the  loss  of 
his  wife,  I  should  suppose  death  would  be  preferable  to 
any  gratitude  we  can  pay  him." 

Lady  Helen,  at  tliis  ungrateful  language,  inwardly  thanked 
Heaven  that  she  inherited  no  part  of  the  blood  which  ani- 
mated so  unfeeling  a  heart.  "That  he  is  an  outlaw,  Lady 
Mar,  springs  from  us.  That  death  is  the  preferable  com- 
forter of  his  sorrows,  also  he  owes  to  us  ;  for  was  it  not  for 
my  father's  sake  that  his  wife  fell,  and  that  he  himself  was 
driven  into  the  wilds  ?  I  do  not,  then,  blush  for  making 
his  preservation  my  first  prayer  ;  and  that  he  may  achieve 
the  freedom  of  Scotland  is  my  second." 

"  We  shall  see  whose  prayers  will  be  answered  first !  " 
returned  Lady  Mar,  rising  coldly  from  her  seat.  "  My 
saints  are  perhaps  nearer  than  yours  ;  and  before  the  close 
of  this  day  you  will  have  reason  to  repent  such  extravagant 
opinions.     I  do  not  understand  them." 

"  Till  now,  you  never  disapproved  them." 

"  I  allowed  them  in  your  infancy,"  replied  the  countess, 
"  because  I  thought  they  went  no  further  than  a  minstrel's 
song ;  but  since  they  are  become  so  dangerous,  I  rue  the 
hour  in  which  I  complied  with  the  entreaties  of  Sir  Richard 


THE   CHAPEL.  85 

Maitland,  and  permitted  you  and  your  sister  to  remain  at 
Thirlcstane,  to  imbibe  tliese  romantic  ideas  from  the  wizard 
of  Ercildown.^  Had  not  Sir  Ricliard  been  your  own 
mother's  father,  I  would  not  have  been  so  easily  pre- 
vailed on ;  and  thus  am  I  rewarded  for  my  indulgence ! " 

"  I  hope,  my  dear  madam,"  said  Helen,  wishing  to  soften 
the  displeasure  of  her  stepmother,  "  I  hope  you  will  never 
be  ill  rewarded  for  that  indulgence,  either  by  my  grand- 
father, my  sister,  or  myself.  Isabella,  in  the  quiet  of 
Thirlestane,  has  no  chance  of  giving  you  the  offence  that 
I  do ;  and  I  am  forced  to  offend  you  because  I  cannot 
disobey  my  conscience."  A  tear  stood  in  the  eye  of  Lady 
Helen :  "  Cannot  you,  dear  Lady  Mar,"  continued  she, 
forcing  a  smile,  "  pardon  the  daughter  of  your  early  friend, 
my  mother,  who  loved  you  as  a  sister ;  cannot  you  forgive 
your  Helen  for  revering  justice  even  more  than  your 
favor  ?  " 

More  influenced  by  the  sweet  humility  of  her  daughter- 
in-law  than  by  the  ingenuous  manner  with  which  she  main- 
tained her  sentiments,  or  with  the  appeal  to  the  memory  of 
the  first  Lady  Mar,  the  countess  relaxed  the  frigid  air  she 
had  assumed ;  and  kissing  her,  with  many  renewed  in- 
junctions to  bless  the  hand  that  might  put  a  final  stop  to 
the  ruinous  enthusiasm  of  her  family,  she  quitted  the 
room. 

As  soon  as  Helen  was  alone  she  forgot  the  narrow- 
minded  arguments  of  the  countess  ;  and  calling  to  recollec- 
tion the  generous  permission  with  which  her  father  had 
endowed  her  the  night  before,  she  wrapped  herself  in  her 
mantle,  and,  attended  by  her  page,  proceeded  to  the  armory. 
The  armorer  was  already  there,  having  just  given  out  arms 
for  three  hundred  men,  who  by  the  earl's  orders  were  to 
assemble  by  noon  on  Bothwell  moor. 

Helen  told  the  man  that  she  came  for  the  best  suit  of 
armor  in  his  custody.     "  It  must  be  of  excellent  proof." 

He  drew  from  an  oaken  chest  a  coat  of  black  mail  stud- 

1  Few  personages  are  so  renowned  in  tradition  as  Thomas  of  Ercil- 
down,  usually  called  the  Rhymer.  He  was  a  poet  and  a  sage,  and  be- 
lieved by  his  contemporaries  to  be  a  prophet.  He  was  born  at  Ercildown, 
a  village  on  the  Leeder  (or  Lareder),  where  the  ruins  of  his  paternal 
castle,  called  Learmont  Tower,  still  remain. 


86  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

ded  with  gold.  Helen  admired  its  strength  and  beauty. 
"  It  is  the  richest  in  all  Scotland,"  answered  he,  "  and  was 
worn  by  our  great  Canmore  in  all  his  victories." 

"  Then  it  is  worthy  its  destination.  Bring  it  with  its 
helmet  and  sword  to  my  apartment." 

The  armorer  took  it  up ;  and  accompanied  by  the  page 
carrjdng  the  lighter  parts,  followed  her  into  the  western 
tower. 

When  Helen  was  again  alone,  it  being  yet  very  early  in 
the  morning,  she  employed  herself  in  pluming  the  casque, 
and  in  forming  the  scarf  which  she  meant  should  adorn 
her  present.  Thus  time  flew  till  the  sandglass  told  her  it 
was  the  eighth  hour.  But  ere  she  had  finished  her  task, 
she  was  aroused  from  the  profound  stillness  in  which  that 
part  of  the  castle  lay,  by  the  doleful  lament  of  the  troop 
returning  from  Ellerslie. 

She  dropped  the  half-formed  scarf  from  her  hand ;  and 
listened,  without  daring  to  draw  her  breath,  to  the  deep- 
toned  lamentations.  She  thought  that  she  had  never  before 
heard  the  dirge  of  her  country  so  piercing,  so  thrillingly 
awful.  Her  head  fell  on  the  armor  and  scarf.  "  Sweet 
lady,"  sighed  she  to  herself,  "  who  is  it  that  dares  thus  in- 
vade thy  duties  !  But  my  gratitude,  gratitude  to  thy  once 
loved  lord,  will  not  offend  thy  pure  spirit !  "  Again  the 
mournful  wailings  rose  on  tlie  air;  and  with  a  convulsion  of 
feelings  she  could  not  restrain,  she  threw  herself  on  her 
knees,  and  leaning  her  head  on  the  newly  adorned  helmet, 
wept  profusely. 

Murray  entered  the  room  unobserved.  "  Helen !  my 
sweet  cousin ! "  cried  he.  She  started,  and  rising,  apolo- 
gized for  her  tears  by  owning  the  truth.  He  now  told  her 
that  the  body  of  the  deceased  lady  was  deposited  in  the 
chapel  of  the  castle  ;  and  that  the  priests  from  the  adjacent 
priory  only  awaited  her  presence,  to  consign  it,  with  the 
Church's  rites,  to  its  tomb. 

Helen  retired  for  a  few  minutes  to  recover  herself  ;  and 
then  re-entering  covered  with  a  black  veil,  was  led  by  her 
cousin  to  the  awful  scene. 

The  bier  lay  before  the  altar.  The  prior  of  St.  Fillan, 
in  his  holy  vestments,  stood  at  its  head ;  a  band  of  monks 
were  ranged  on  each  side.     The  maids  of  Lady  Helen,  in 


Sr.  FILLAN'S.  87 

mourning  garments,  met  their  mistress  at  the  portal.  They 
had  wrapped  the  beautiful  corpse  in  the  shroud  prepared 
for  it,  and  now  having  laid  it,  strewed  with  flowers,  upon 
the  bier,  they  advanced  to  their  trembling  lady,  expecting 
her  to  approve  their  services.  Helen  drew  near ;  she  bowed 
to  the  priests.  One  of  her  women  put  her  hand  on  the  pall 
to  uncover  the  once  lovely  face  of  the  murdered  Marion. 
Lady  Helen  hastily  resisted  the  woman's  motion,  by  laying 
her  hand  also  upon  the  pall.  The  chill  of  death  struck 
through  the  velvet  to  her  touch.  She  turned  pale ;  and 
waving  her  hand  to  the  prior  to  begin,  the  bier  was  lowered 
by  the  priests  into  the  tomb  beneath.  As  it  descended, 
Helen  sunk  upon  her  knees,  and  the  anthem  for  departed 
souls  was  raised.  The  pealing  notes,  as  they  rose  and 
swelled,  seemed  to  bear  up  the  spirit  of  the  sainted  Marion 
to  its  native  heaven  ;  and  the  tears  which  now  flowed  from 
the  eyes  of  Helen,  as  they  mingled  with  her  pious  aspira- 
tions, seemed  the  balm  of  paradise  descending  upon  her 
soul. 

When  all  was  over,  the  venerable  Halbert,  who  had  con- 
cealed his  overwhelming  sorrow  behind  a  pillar,  threw 
himself  on  the  cold  stone  which  forever  closed  the  last 
chamber  of  his  mistress.  With  faint  cries,  he  gave  way  to 
the  woe  which  shook  his  aged  bosom,  and  called  on  death 
to  lay  him  low  with  her.  The  women  of  Lady  Helen  again 
chanted  forth  their  melancholy  wailings  for  the  dead  ;  and 
unable  longer  to  bear  the  scene,  she  threw  herself  into  the 
arms  of  her  cousin,  and  was  carried  in  an  almost  insensible 
state  to  her  apartment. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

ST.    FILLAN'S. 

HAVING  rewarded  his  trusty  followers  with  their  prom- 
ised war-bonnets  from  the  hand  of  Helen,  and 
dispatched  them  onward  to  the  foot  of  Cartlane  craigs  to 
await  his  arrival  with  the  larger  levy,  Murray  proceeded  to 
the  apartment  of  Lord  Mar  to  inform  him  how  far  he  had 


88  THE   SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

executed  his  commands,  and  to  hear  his  future  orders.  He 
found  the  veteran  earl  surrounded  by  arms  and  armed  men ; 
fifty  brave  Scots,  who  were  to  lead  the  three  hundred  now 
on  the  Bothwell  moor,  were  receiving  their  spears  and 
swords  and  other  weapons  from  the  hands  of  their  lord. 

"  Bear  these  stoutly,  my  gallant  countrymen,"  cried  he, 
"  and  remember  that  although  the  dragon  ^  of  England  has 
burned  up  our  harvests  and  laid  your  houses  in  ashes,  there 
is  yet  a  lion  in  Scotland  to  wither  his  power  and  glut  you 
with  his  spoil !  " 

He  had  scarcely  uttered  these  words  when  the  double 
doors  of  the  apartment  flew  open,  and  his  eyes  were  blasted 
by  the  sudden  sight  of  Lord  Soulis.^  A  man  in  a  splendid 
suit  of  English  armor,  and  a  train  of  Southron  soldiers,  fol- 
lowed the  recreant  Scot. 

The  earl  started  from  his  couch.  "  Lord  Soulis,  what  is 
the  occasion  of  this  unapprised  visit  ? " 

"  The  ensign  of  the  liege  lord  of  Scotland  is  my  warrant," 
replied  he.  "  You  are  my  prisoner ;  and  in  the  name  of 
King  Edward  of  England  I  take  possession  of  this  castle." 

"  Never,"  cried  the  earl,  "  while  there  is  a  man's  arm 
within  it !  " 

"  Men  or  women,"  returned  Lord  Soulis,  "  they  must  sur- 
render to  Edward.  Three  thousand  English  have  seized 
three  hundred  of  your  insurgents  on  Bothwell  moor.  The 
castle  is  surrounded,  and  resistance  is  impossible.  Throw 
down  your  arms,  ye  mutinous  villains ! "  cried  he,  turning 
to  the  Scots  who  were  present,  "  or  be  hanged  for  rebellion 
against  your  lawful  sovereign  !  " 

"  Our  lawful  sovereign,"  returned  a  young  man  who 
stood  near  him,  "  must  be  the  enemy  of  Edward ;  and  to 
none  else  will  we  yield  our  swords  !  " 

"  Traitor ! "  cried  the  English  commander,  and  with  a 
sudden  and  dreadful  stroke  of  his  battle-axe  he  laid  the  body 
of  the  generous  Scot  a  headless  corpse  at  his  feet.    A  direful 

1  The  standard  of  Edward  the  First  was  a  golden  dragon. 

2  William  Lord  Soulis  was  a  powerful  chief  in  the  south  of  Scotland. 
He  founded  pretensions  to  the  Scottish  crown  on  his  descent  from  an 
illegitimate  daughter  of  Alexander  II.  Soulis  was  a  traitor  to  his  country, 
and  so  notoriously  wicked  that  tradition  endows  him  with  the  power  of 
infernal  necromancy.  His  castle  of  Hermitage  in  Teviot  dale  is  still 
shown  as  the  resort  of  malignant  demons. 


ST.  FILLAN'S.  89 

cry  proceeded  from  his  enraged  comrades.  Every  sword 
was  drawn ;  and  before  the  bewildered  and  soul-struck  earl 
could  utter  a  word,  the  Furies  blew  their  most  horrible  blast 
through  the  chamber  ;  and  the  half-frantic  Mar  beheld  his 
brave  Scots  at  one  moment  victorious,  and  in  the  next  the 
floor  strewed  with  their  dead  bodies.  A  new  succession  of 
bloodhounds  rushed  in  at  every  door ;  and  before  the  exter- 
minating sword  was  allowed  to  rest,  the  whole  of  his  faith- 
ful troops  lay  around  him,  wounded  and  dying.  Several 
had  fallen  across  his  body,  having  warded  with  their  lives 
the  strokes  which  they  thought  were  levelled  at  his.  In 
vain  his  voice  had  called  upon  his  men  to  surrender;  in 
vain  he  had  implored  the  iron-hearted  Soulis  and  his  co- 
adjutor, Aymer  de  Valence,  to  stop  the  havoc  of  death.  All 
now  lay  in  blood ;  and  the  room,  thronged  by  the  victors, 
became  so  intolerable  that  De  Valence,  for  his  own  sake, 
ordered  the  earl  to  be  removed  into  another  apartment. 

Meanwhile,  unconscious  of  what  was  passing,  Helen  had 
lain  down  on  her  bed  to  seek  a  few  minutes'  repose ;  and 
having  watched  the  whole  of  the  preceding  night,  she  sank 
into  a  profound  sleep. 

Murray,  who  was  present  at  the  abrupt  entrance  of  the 
enemy,  no  sooner  heard  them  declare  that  the  castle  was 
surrounded  by  a  comparatively  large  army  than  he  foresaw 
all  would  be  lost.  On  the  instant,  and  before  the  dreadful 
signal  of  carnage  was  given  in  the  fall  of  the  young  Scot, 
he  slid  behind  the  canopy  of  his  uncle's  couch,  and  lifting 
the  arras,  by  a  back  door  which  led  to  some  private  rooms 
hastily  made  his  way  to  the  chamber  of  his  cousin.  As  he 
hurried  along  he  heard  a  fearful  shout.  He  paused  for  a 
moment,  but  thinking  it  best,  whatever  might  have  hap- 
pened, to  secure  the  safety  of  Helen,  he  flew  onward,  and 
entered  her  room.  She  lay  upon  the  bed  in  a  deep  sleep. 
"  Awake,  Helen,"  cried  he ;  "  for  your  life  awake  !  " 

She  opened  her  eyes;  but  without  allowing  her  time  to 
speak  he  hastily  added,  "  The  castle  is  full  of  armed  men, 
led  hither  by  the  English  commander  Aymer  de  Valence 
and  the  execrable  Soulis.  Unless  you  fly  through  the  vaulted 
passage,  you  will  be  their  prisoner." 

Helen  gazed  at  him  full  of  terror.  "  What,  leave  my 
father?     I  cannot." 


90  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

"  Fly,  in  pity  to  your  father  !  Oh,  do  not  hesitate  ! 
What  will  be  his  anguish  should  you  fall  into  the  hands  of 
the  man  whose  love  you  have  rejected,  and  when  it  will  no 
longer  be  in  the  power  of  a  parent  to  preserve  your  person 
from  the  outrages  of  his  eager  and  avengeful  passion?  If 
you  had  seen  Soulis's  merciless  eyes  —  "  He  was  inter- 
rupted by  a  clamor  in  the  opposite  gallery,  and  the  shrieks 
of  women. 

Helen  grasped  his  arm.  "Alas,  my  poor  damsels!  I 
will  go  with  you ;  lead  me  whither  you  will,  to  be  far  from 
him." 

As  Murray  threw  his  arm  about  her  waist  to  impel  her 
failing  steps,  his  eyes  fell  on  the  banner  and  the  suit  of 
armor. 

"  All  else  must  be  left,"  exclaimed  he,  seizing  the  banner ; 
and  hurrying  Helen  forward  he  hastened  with  her  down  the 
secret  stairs  which  led  from  the  western  watch-tower  to  the 
vaults  beneath  the  castle.  On  entering  the  first  cellar,  to 
which  a  dim  light  was  admitted  through  a  small  grating 
near  the  top,  he  looked  around  for  the  archway  that  con- 
tained the  avenue  of  their  release.  Having  descried  it, 
and  raised  one  of  the  large  flags  which  paved  the  floor,  he 
assisted  his  affrighted  cousin  down  a  short  flight  of  steps 
into  the  secret  passage.  "  This,"  whispered  he,  "  will  carry 
us  in  a  direct  hne  to  the  cell  of  the  prior  of  St.  Fillan." 

"  But  what  will  become  of  my  father  and  Lady  Mar  ? 
This  flight  from  them,  —  I  fear  to  complete  it ! " 

"Rather fear  the  libertine  Soulis,"  returned  Murray;  "he 
can  only  make  them  prisoners.  And  even  that  injury  shall 
be  of  short  duration ;  I  will  soon  join  the  brave  Wallace, 
and  then,  my  sweet  cousin,  liberty  and  a  happy  meeting !  " 

"  Alas,  his  venerable  harper  !  "  cried  she,  suddenly 
recollecting  Halbert;  "should  he  be  discovered  to  have 
belonged  to  Wallace,  he  will  be  put  to  death  by  these 
merciless  men." 

Murray  stopped.  "Have  you  courage  to  remain  in  this 
darkness  alone.''  If  so,  I  will  seek  him,  and  he  shall 
accompany  us." 

Helen  only  feared  the  dangers  Murray  might  encounter 
by  returning  into  the  castle ;  but  the  generous  youth  entered 
too  fully  into  her  apprehensions  concerning  the  old  man  to 


ST.   FILL  AN' S.  9 1 

be  withheld.  "  Should  I  be  delayed  in  coming  back,"  said 
he,  recollecting  the  possibility  of  himself  being  attacked 
and  slain,  "  go  forward  to  the  end  of  this  passage ;  it  will 
lead  you  to  a  flight  of  stairs ;  ascend  them,  and  by  drawing 
the  bolt  of  a  door  you  will  find  yourself  at  once  in  the 
prior's  cell." 

"Talk  not  of  delay,"  rephed  Helen;  "return  quickly, 
and  I  will  await  you  at  the  entrance  of  the  passage."  So 
saying,  she  swiftly  retraced  with  him  her  steps  to  the 
bottom  of  the  stone  stairs  by  which  they  had  descended. 
He  re-raised  the  flag,  sprung  out  of  the  aperture,  and 
closing  it  down,  left  her  in  solitude  and  darkness. 

Murray  passed  through  the  first  cellar,  and  was  proceed- 
ing to  the  second  (amongst  the  catacombs  of  which  lay  the 
concealed  entrance  to  the  private  stairs)  when  he  saw  the 
great  gates  of  the  cellar  open,  and  a  large  party  of  English 
soldiers  enter ;  they  were  conducted  by  the  butler  of  the 
castle,  who  seemed  to  perform  his  office  very  unwillingly, 
as  they  crowded  in,  uttering  many  jovial  threats  against  the 
juice  of  the  vineyard. 

Aware  how  unequal  his  single  arm  would  be  to  contend 
with  such  numbers,  at  the  first  glance  of  these  plunderers 
Murray  retreated  behind  a  heap  of  casks  into  a  remote 
corner.  While  the  trembling  butler  was  loading  a  dozen 
of  the  men  with  flasks  for  the  refreshment  of  their  masters, 
the  rest  were  helping  themselves  from  the  adjacent  cata- 
combs. Some  left  the  cellars  with  their  booty,  and  others 
remained  to  drink  it  on  the  spot.  Glad  to  escape  the  in- 
sults of  the  soldiers  who  lay  wallowing  in  the  wine,  Both- 
well's  old  servant  quitted  the  cellar  with  the  last  company 
which  bore  flagons  to  their  comrades  above. 

Murray  at  this  time  listened  anxiously,  in  hopes  of  hear- 
ing from  his  garrulous  neighbors  some  intimation  of  the 
fate  of  his  uncle  and  aunt.  He  hearkened  in  vain  ;  for 
nothing  was  uttered  by  these  intoxicated  banditti  but  loud 
boastings  of  the  number  each  had  slain  in  the  earl's  apart- 
ment, execrations  against  the  .Scots  for  their  obstinate  re- 
sistance, and  a  thousand  sanguinary  wishes  that  the  nation 
had  but  one  neck  which  tliey  might  destroy  at  a  single 
blow. 

How  often,  during  this  conversation,  was  Murray  tempted 


92  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

to  rush  out  amongst  them  and  seize  a  desperate  revenge ! 
But  the  thought  of  his  poor  cousin  now  awaiting  his  return, 
and  perliaps  already  suffering  dreadful  alarms  from  such 
extraordinary  uproar,  restrained  him ;  and  unable  to  move 
from  his  hiding-place  without  precipitating  himself  into 
instant  death,  he  remained  nearly  an  hour  in  the  ntost 
painful  anxiety,  watching  the  dropping  to  sleep  of  this 
horrid  crew,  one  by  one. 

When  all  seemed  hushed,  —  not  a  voice,  even  in  a  whisper, 
startling  his  ear,  —  he  ventured  forth  with  a  stealing  step  to 
the  side  of  the  slumbering  group.  Like  his  brave  ancestor, 
Gaul  the  son  of  Morni,  he  disdained  to  stab  a  sleeping  foe ! 
He  must  pass  them  to  reach  the  private  stairs.  He  paused 
and  listened.  Silence  still  reigned,  and  not  even  a  hand 
moved,  so  deeply  were  they  sunk  in  the  fumes  of  wine.  He 
took  courage,  and  flew  with  the  lightness  of  air  to  the  secret 
door.  As  lie  laid  his  hand  on  it,  it  was  opened  from  without, 
and  two  persons  appeared.  By  the  few  rays  which  gleamed 
from  the  expiring  torches  of  the  sleepers  he  could  see  that 
the  first  wore  English  armor.  Murray  believed  himself  lost ; 
but  determined  to  sell  his  life  dearly,  he  made  a  spring  to 
catch  the  man  by  the  throat,  when  some  one,  seizing  his 
arm,  exclaimed,  "  Stop,  my  Lord  Murray !  it  is  the  faithful 
Grimsby  you  would  kill  ! "  Murray  let  go  his  hold,  glad  to 
find  that  both  his  English  friend  and  the  venerable  object 
of  his  solicitude  were  thus  providentially  brought  to  meet 
him;  but  fearing  that  the  violence  of  his  action  and  Hal- 
bert's  exclamation  might  have  alarmed  the  sleeping  soldiers 
(who,  drunk  as  they  were,  were  too  numerous  to  be  resisted), 
he  laid  his  finger  on  the  lip  of  Grimsby,  and  motioned  to 
the  astonished  pair  to  follow  him. 

As  they  advanced,  they  perceived  one  of  the  soldiers  move 
as  if  disturbed.  Murray  held  his  sword  over  the  sleeping 
wretch,  ready  to  plunge  it  into  his  heart  should  he  attempt 
to  rise.  But  he  became  still  again  ;  and  the  fugitives  hav- 
ing approached  the  flag,  Murray  drew  it  up,  and  eager  to 
haven  his  double  charge,  he  thrust  them  together  down  the 
stairs.  At  that  moment  a  shriek  from  Helen  (who  discov- 
ered by  the  gleam  of  light  which  burst  into  the  vault  a  man 
descending  in  English  armor)  echoed  through  the  cellars. 
Two  of  the  soldiers  jumped  upon  their  feet,  and  rushed 


ST.   FILLAN'S.  93 

upon  Murray.  He  had  let  the  flag  drop  behind  him ;  but 
still  remaining  by  it  in  case  of  an  opportunity  to  escape,  he 
received  the  strokes  of  their  weapons  upon  his  target,  and 
returned  them  with  redoubled  violence.  One  assailant  lay 
gasping  at  his  feet.  But  the  clashing  of  arms  and  the  cries 
of  the  survivor  had  already  awakened  the  whole  crew ; 
with  horrid  menaces,  they  threw  themselves  towards  the 
young  Scot,  and  would  certainly  have  cut  him  to  pieces 
liad  he  not  snatched  the  only  remaining  torch  out  of  the 
hand  of  a  staggering  soldier,  and  extinguished  it  under  his 
foot.  Bewildered  where  to  find  their  prey,  with  threats 
and  imprecations  they  groped  in  darkness,  slashing  the  air 
with  their  swords,  and  not  unfrequently  wounding  each 
other  in  the  vain  search. 

Murray  was  now  far  from  their  pursuit.  He  had  no 
sooner  put  out  the  light  than  he  pulled  up  the  flag,  and 
leaping  down  drew  it  after  him,  and  found  himself  in 
safety.  Desperate  as  was  the  contest  it  had  been  short, 
for  he  yet  heard  the  footsteps  of  the  panic-stricken  Helen 
flying  along  the  passage.  The  Englishman  and  Halbert, 
on  the  first  falling  of  the  flag,  not  knowing  its  spring,  had 
unsuccessfully  tried  to  re-raise  it,  that  they  might  assist 
Murray  in  the  tumult  above.  On  his  appearing  again  so 
unexpectedly,  they  declared  their  joy ;  but  the  young  lord, 
impatient  to  calm  the  apprehensions  of  his  cousin,  returned 
no  other  answer  than  "  Follow  me ! "  while  he  darted  for- 
ward. Terror  had  given  her  wings;  and  unable  to  hear 
the  low  sounds  of  Murray's  voice,  which  he  durst  not  raise 
to  a  higher  pitch  for  fear  of  being  overheard  by  the  enemy, 
he  did  not  come  up  with  her  till  she  fell  breathless  against 
the  stairs  at  the  extremity  of  the  vault. 

As  soon  as  he  found  her  within  his  arms,  he  clasped  her 
insensible  form  to  his  breast,  and  carrying  her  up  the  steps, 
drew  the  bolt  of  the  door.  It  sprung  open,  and  discovered 
a  large  monastic  cell,  into  which  the  daylight  shone  through 
one  long  narrow  window.  A  straw  pallet,  an  altar,  and  a 
marble  basin  were  the  furniture.  The  cell  was  solitary',  the 
owner  then  being  at  high  mass  in  the  chapel  of  the  mon- 
aster}\  Murray  laid  his  cousin  on  the  monk's  bed.  He 
then  ventured  (believing,  as  it  was  to  restore  so  pure  a  being 
to  life,  it  could  not  be  sacrilege)  to  throw  some  of  the  holy 


94  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

water  upon  the  face  of  Helen,  and  by  means  of  a  little  cha- 
lice which  stood  upon  the  altar  he  poured  some  into  her 
mouth.  At  last  opening  her  eyes,  she  recognized  the  figure 
of  her  cousin  leaning  over  her.  The  almost  paralyzed 
H albert  stood  at  her  feet.  "Blessed  Virgin!  am  I  yet 
safe,  and  with  my  dear  Andrew  ?  Oh,  I  feared  you  were 
slain !  "  cried  she,  bursting  into  tears. 

"  Thank  God,  we  are  both  safe,"  answered  he.  "  Comfort 
yourself,  my  beloved  cousin  ;  you  are  now  on  holy  ground  : 
this  is  the  cell  of  the  prior  of  St.  Fillan.  None  but  the 
hand  of  an  infidel  durst  tear  you  from  this  sanctuary." 

"  But  my  father  and  Lady  Mar !  what  may  have  become 
of  them  ?  " 

"The  countess,  my  gracious  lady,"  answered  H albert, 
"  since  you  could  not  be  found  in  the  castle,  is  allowed  to 
accompany  your  father  to  Dumbarton  castle ;  they  are  to 
be  treated  with  every  respect  until  De  Valence  receives 
further  orders  from  King  Edward." 

"  Wallace,  Wallace ! "  cried  she,  "  where,  then,  are  the 
succors  we  were  to  have  sent  to  thee  ?  And  without  suc- 
cors, how  canst  thou  rescue  my  dear  father  from  this 
tyranny  ?  " 

"Do  not  despair,"  replied  Murray;  "look  but  at  the 
banner  you  held  fast  even  while  insensible ;  your  own 
hands  have  engraven  my  answer,  '  God  armeth  the  patriot ! ' 
Convinced  of  that,  can  you  still  fear  for  your  father?  No  ! 
I  will  join  Wallace  to-morrow.  Your  own  fifty  warriors 
await  me  at  the  bottom  of  Cartlane  craigs ;  and  if  any 
treachery  should  be  meditated  against  my  uncle,  that 
moment  we  will  raze  the  towers  of  Dumbarton  to  their 
foundation." 

Helen's  reply  was  a  deep  sigh.  She  thought  it  might  be 
Heaven's  will  that  her  father,  like  the  good  Lord  Douglas, 
should  fall  a  victim  to  royal  revenge ;  and  so  sad  were  her 
forebodings  that  she  hardly  dared  to  hope  what  the  san- 
guine disposition  of  her  cousin  promised.  Grimsby  now 
came  forward,  and  unloosing  an  iron  box  that  was  swung 
under  his  arm,  put  it  into  the  hands  of  Lord  Murray. 

"  This  fatal  treasure,"  said  he,  "  was  committed  to  my 
care  by  the  earl  your  uncle,  to  deliver  to  the  prior  of  St. 
Fillan's." 


ST.   FILLAN'S.  95 

"  What  does  it  contain  ?  "  demanded  Murray.  "  I  never 
saw  it  before." 

"  I  know  not  its  contents,"  returned  the  soldier ;  "  it  be- 
longs to  Sir  William  Wallace." 

"Indeed!"  ejaculated  Helen.  "If  it  be  treasure,  why 
was  it  not  rather  sent  to  him  ?  But  how,  honest  soldier, 
could  you  escape  with  it  through  these  possessed  walls  ? " 

He  replied  that  he  was  obliged  to  have  recourse  to  strat- 
agem. As  soon  as  the  Enghsh  and  their  Scottish  partisans 
under  Lord  Soulis  had  surprised  the  castle,  he  saw  that 
his  only  chance  of  safety  was  to  throw  off  the  bonnet  and 
plaid,  and  to  mix  amongst  the  numerous  soldiers  who  took 
possession  of  the  gates.  His  armor  and  his  language  showed 
he  was  their  countryman ;  and  they  easily  believed  that 
he  had  joined  the  plunderers  as  a  volunteer  from  the  army 
which  at  a  greater  distance  beleaguered  the  castle.  The 
story  of  his  desertion  from  the  Lanark  garrison  had  not  yet 
reached  those  of  Glasgow  and  Dumbarton ;  and  one  or  two 
men  who  had  known  him  in  former  expeditions  readily  re- 
ported that  he  had  been  drafted  into  the  present  one.  Their 
recognition  warranted  his  truth ;  and  he  had  no  difficulty, 
after  the  carnage  in  the  state  apartment,  to  make  his  way 
to  the  bed-chamber  where  Lord  Aymer  de  Valence  had  or- 
dered Lord  Mar  to  be  carried.  He  found  the  earl  alone, 
and  lost  in  grief.  He  knew  not  but  that  his  nephew  and 
the  Lady  Helen  and  the  countess  had  fallen  beneath  the 
impetuous  swords  of  the  enemy.  Astonished  at  seeing  the 
soldier  walking  at  large,  he  expressed  his  surprise  with  some 
suspicions.  But  Grimsby  told  him  of  the  stratagem  he  had 
used,  and  then  satisfied  his  anxiety  that  Lord  Andrew  had 
not  been  seen  since  the  onset.  This  information  inspired 
him  with  a  hope  that  his  nephew  had  escaped ;  and  when 
the  soldier  also  said  that  he  had  seen  the  countess  led  by 
Lord  Soulis  across  the  hall  towards  his  daughter's  apart- 
ments, and  had  overheard  him  promising  them  every  re- 
spect, the  earl  seemed  comforted.  "  But  how,"  inquired  he 
of  Grimsby,  "has  this  hard  fate  befallen  us?  Have  you 
learned  how  De  Valence  knew  that  I  meant  to  take  up 
arms  for  my  country  ?  " 

When  the  soldier  was  relating  this  part  of  the  confer- 
ence, Murray  interrupted  him  with  the  same  demand. 


96  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

"  On  that  head  I  cannot  fully  satisfy  you,"  replied  he. 
"  I  could  only  gather  from  the  soldiers  that  a  sealed  packet 
had  been  delivered  to  Lord  Aymer  de  Valence  late  last 
night  at  Dumbarton  castle.  Soulis  was  then  there;  and 
he  immediately  set  off  to  Glasgow  for  the  followers  he 
had  left  in  that  town.  Early  this  morning  he  joined  De 
Valence  and  his  legions  on  Bothwell  moor.  The  conse- 
quences there,  you  know.  But  they  do  not  end  at  Both- 
well  ;  the  gallant  Wallace  —  " 

At  that  name,  so  mentioned,  the  heart  of  Helen  grew 
cold. 

"  What  of  him  ?  "  exclaimed  Murray. 

"  No  personal  harm  has  yet  happened  to  Sir  William 
Wallace,"  replied  Grimsby;  "but  in  the  same  moment  De 
Valence  gave  orders  to  his  troops  to  march  to  Bothwell,  he 
sent  others  to  intercept  that  persecuted  knight's  escape 
from  the  Cartlane  craigs." 

"  That  damned  sealed  packet,"  cried  Murray,  "  has  been 
the  traitor!  Some  villain  in  Bothwell  castle  must  have 
written  it.  Whence  else  could  have  come  the  information  ? 
And  if  so,"  added  he  with  tremendous  emphasis,  "  may 
the  curse  of  slavery  ever  pursue  him  and  his  posterity !  " 

Helen  shuddered,  as  the  amen  to  this  frightful  maledic- 
tion was  echoed  by  the  voices  of  H  albert  and  the  soldier. 
The  latter  continued  :  — 

"  When  I  informed  Lord  Mar  of  these  measures  against 
Wallace,  he  expressed  a  hope  that  your  first  detachment  to 
his  assistance  might,  with  yourself  perhaps  at  its  head, 
elude  their  vigilance  and  join  his  friend.  This  discourse 
reminded  him  of  the  iron  box.  '  It  is  in  that  closet,'  said 
he,  pointing  to  an  opposite  door ;  '  you  will  find  it  beneath 
the  little  altar  before  which  I  pay  my  daily  duties  to  the 
All-Wise  Dispenser  of  the  fates  of  men.  Take  it  thence, 
and  buckle  it  to  your  side.' 

"  I  obeyed ;  and  he  then  proceeded :  '  There  are  two 
passages  in  this  house  which  lead  to  sanctuary :  the  one 
nearer  to  us  will  be  the  safer  for  you.  A  staircase  from 
the  closet  you  have  just  left  will  lead  you  directly  into  the 
chapel.  When  there,  you  will  see  the  image  of  the  Virgin. 
Slip  aside  the  marble  tablet  on  the  back  of  the  pedestal : 
it  will  admit  you  to  a  flight  of  steps ;  descend  them,  and 


Sr.  FILLAN'S.  97 

at  the  bottom  you  will  find  a  door  that  will  convey  you 
i-nto  a  range  of  cellars.  Lift  up  the  largest  flagstone  in 
the  second,  and  you  will  be  conducted  through  a  dark 
vault  to  an  iron  door ;  draw  the  bolt,  and  remain  in  the 
cell  it  will  open  to  you  till  the  master  enters.  He  is  the 
prior  of  St.  Fillan,  and  a  Murray.  Give  him  this  golden 
cross  which  he  well  knows,  as  a  mark  you  come  from  me ; 
and  say  it  is  my  request  that  he  assist  you  to  gain  the  sea- 
shore. As  for  the  iron  box,  tell  him  to  preserve  it  as  he 
would  his  life,  and  never  to  give  it  up  but  to  myself,  my 
children,  or  to  Sir  William  Wallace,  its  rightful  owner.'  " 

"Alas,"  cried  Halbert,  "that  he  had  never  been  its 
owner !  that  he  had  never  brought  it  to  Ellerslie  to  draw 
down  misery  on  his  head !  Ill-omened  trust !  whatever  it 
contains,  its  presence  carries  blood  and  sorrow  in  its  train. 
Wherever  it  has  been  deposited,  war  and  murder  have  fol- 
lowed.    I  trust  my  dear  master  will  never  see  it  more  !  " 

"  He  may,  indeed,  never  see  it  more  !  "  murmured  Helen, 
in  a  low  voice.  "  Oh,  how  am  I  bereaved !  Where  are 
now  my  gay  anticipations  of  freedom  to  Scotland  ?  Alas, 
Andrew,"  said  she,  taking  his  hand,  and  weeping  over  it, 
"  I  have  been  too  presumptuous ;  my  father  is  a  prisoner, 
and  Sir  William  Wallace  lost !  " 

"  Cease,  my  dear  Helen,"  cried  he,  "  cease  thus  to  dis- 
tress yourself.  These  are  merely  the  vicissitudes  of  the 
great  contention  we  are  engaged  in ;  we  must  expect  occa- 
sional disappointments,  or  look  for  miracles  every  day. 
Such  disasters  are  sent  as  lessons,  to  teach  us  precaution, 
promptitude,  and  patience.  These  are  the  soldier's  graces, 
my  sweet  cousin ;  and,  depend  on  it,  I  will  pay  them  due 
obedience." 

"  But  why,"  said  Helen,  taking  comfort  from  the  unsub- 
dued spirits  of  her  cousin,  "  why,  my  good  soldier,  did  not 
my  dear  father  take  advantage  of  this  sanctuary  '^.  " 

"  I  urged  the  earl  to  accompany  me,"  returned  Grimsby ; 
"  but  he  said  such  a  proceeding  would  leave  his  wife  and 
babes  in  unprotected  captivity.  '  No,'  added  he,  '  I  will 
await  my  fate ;  for  the  God  of  those  who  trust  in  him 
knows  that  I  do  not  fear ! ' 

"  Having  received  such  peremptory-  orders  from  the  earl, 
I   took  my  leave ;  and  entering  the  chapel  by  the  way  he 

VOL.    I.  —  7 


98  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

directed  was  agreeably  surprised  to  find  the  worthy  H al- 
bert ;  who,  never  having  seen  him  since  the  funeral  obse- 
quies, I  supposed  had  fallen  during  the  carnage  in  the 
state  chamber.  He  was  still  kneeling  by  the  tomb  of  his 
buried  mistress.  I  did  not  take  long  to  warn  him  of  his 
danger ;  and  desiring  him  to  follow  me,  we  descended  be- 
neath the  holy  statue,  and  were  just  emerging  into  the 
cellars  when  you,  dear  sir,  met  us  at  the  entrance. 

"It  was  while  we  were  yet  in  the  chapel  that  I  heard 
De  Valence  and  Soulis  at  high  words  in  the  courtyard. 
The  former,  in  a  loud  voice,  gave  orders  that  as  Lady 
Helen  Mar  could  nowhere  be  found,  the  earl  and  countess 
with  their  two  infant  children  should  not  be  separated,  but 
conveyed  as  his  prisoners  to  Dumbarton  castle." 

"That  is  a  comfort,"  cried  Helen;  "my  father  will  then 
be  consoled  by  the  presence  of  his  wife." 

"  But  very  different  would  have  been  the  case,  madam, 
had  you  appeared,"  rejoined  the  soldier.  "  One  of  Lord 
de  Valence's  men  told  me  that  Lord  Soulis  intended  to 
have  taken  you  and  the  countess  to  Dunglass  castle,  near 
Glasgow,  while  the  sick  earl  was  to  have  been  carried 
alone  to  Dumbarton  and  detained  in  solitary  confinement. 
Lord  Soulis  was  in  so  dreadful  a  rage  when  you  could  not 
be  found,  that  he  accused  the  English  commander  of  hav- 
ing leagued  with  Lady  Mar  to  deceive  him.  In  the  midst 
of  this  contention  we  descended  into  the  vaults." 

Helen  shuddered  as  she  thought  how  near  she  was  to 
falling  into  the  hands  of  so  fierce  a  spirit.  In  his  charac- 
ter he  united  every  quality  which  could  render  power  for- 
midable. Combining  prodigious  bodily  strength  with 
cruelty,  dissimulation,  and  treachery,  he  was  feared  by  the 
common  people  as  a  sorcerer,  and  avoided  by  the  virtuous 
of  his  own  rank  as  the  enemy  of  all  public  law  and  the  vio- 
later  of  every  private  tie.  Helen  Mar  had  twice  refused 
his  hand, — first  during  the  contest  for  the  kingdom,  when 
his  pretended  claim  to  the  crown  was  disallowed.  She  was 
then  a  mere  child,  hardly  more  than  fourteen ;  but  she  re- 
jected him  with  abhorrence.  Though  stung  to  the  quick 
at  being  denied  the  objects  of  his  love  and  his  ambition  at 
the  same  moment,  he  did  not  hesitate  at  another  period  to 
renew  his  offers  to  her.     At  the  fall  of  Dunbar,  when  he 


ST.   FILL  A  ATS.  99 

again  founded  his  uprise  on  the  ruins  of  his  country,  as 
soon  as  he  had  repeated  his  oaths  of  fidelity  to  Edward,  he 
hastened  to  Thirlestane  to  throw  himself  a  second  time  at 
the  feet  of  Lady  Helen.  Her  ripened  judgment  confirmed 
her  dislike  of  his  ruffianly  qualities,  and  again  he  was 
rejected. 

"  By  the  powers  of  hell,"  exclaimed  he,  when  the  project 
of  surprising  Bothwell  was  imparted  to  him,  "  if  I  once  get 
that  proud  minion  into  my  grasp,  she  shall  kneel  as  un- 
pitied  by  me  as  I  have  knelt  to  her.  She  shall  be  mine  as 
I  will,  and  learn  to  beg  for  even  a  look  from  the  man  who 
has  humbled  her !  " 

Helen  knew  not  half  the  afflictions  with  which  his  re- 
sentful heart  had  meditated  to  subdue  and  torture  her ; 
and  therefore,  though  she  shrank  at  the  sound  of  a  name 
so  generally  infamous,  yet  not  aware  of  all  the  evils  she 
had  escaped  she  replied  with  languor,  though  with  grati- 
tude, to  the  almost  rapturous  congratulations  of  her  cousin 
on  her  timely  flight. 

At  this  period  the  door  of  the  cell  opened,  and  the  prior 
entered  from  the  cloisters.  He  started  on  seeing  his  room 
filled  with  strangers.  Murray  took  off  his  helmet  and  ap- 
proached him.  On  recognizing  him,  the  prior  inquired 
his  commands,  and  expressed  some  surprise  that  such  a 
company,  and  above  all,  a  lady,  could  have  passed  the 
convent  gate  without  his  previous  notice. 

Murray  pointed  to  the  recess  behind  the  altar,  and  then 
explained  to  the  good  priest  the  necessity  which  had  com- 
pelled them  to  seek  the  protection  of  Saint  Fillan.  "  Lady 
Helen,"  continued  he,  "  must  share  your  care,  until  Heaven 
empowers  the  Earl  of  Mar  to  reclaim  his  daughter,  and 
adequately  to  reward  this  holy  church." 

The  soldier  then  presented  the  cross,  with  the  iron  box, 
repeating  the  message  that  confided  them  to  his  keeping. 

The  prior  listened  to  these  recitals  with  sorrowful  atten- 
tion. He  had  heard  the  noise  of  armed  men  advancing 
to  the  castle ;  but  knowing  that  the  earl  was  making  war- 
like preparations,  he  had  no  suspicions  that  these  were 
other  than  the  Bothwell  soldiers.  He  took  the  box,  and 
laying  it  on  the  altar  pressed  the  cross  to  his  lips.  "  The 
Earl  of  Mar  shall  find  that  fidelity  here  which  his  faith 


100  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

in  the  Church  merits.  That  mysterious  chest,  to  which 
you  tell  me  so  terrible  a  denunciation  is  annexed,  shall 
be  preserved  sacred  as  the  relics  of  Saint  Fillan." 

H albert  groaned  heavily  at  these  v^^ords,  but  he  did  not 
speak.  The  father  looked  at  him  attentively,  and  then 
proceeded  :  "  And  for  you,  virtuous  Southron,  I  will  give 
you  a  pilgrim's  habit.  Travel  in  that  privileged  garb  to 
Montrose;  and  there  a  brother  of  the  church,  the  prior 
of  Aberbrothick,  will,  by  a  letter  from  me,  convey  you  in 
a  vessel  to  Normandy  ;  thence  you  may  safely  find  your 
way  to  Guienne." 

The  soldier  bowed  his  head ;  and  the  priest,  turning  to 
Lady  Helen,  told  her  that  a  cell  should  be  appointed  for 
her,  and  some  pious  woman  brought  from  the  adjoining 
hamlet  to  pay  her  due  attendance. 

"  As  for  this  venerable  man,"  continued  he,  "  his  silver 
hairs  already  proclaim  him  near  his  heavenly  country.  He 
had  best  put  on  the  cowl  of  the  holy  brotherhood,  and  in 
the  arms  of  religion  repose  securely,  till  he  passes  through 
the  sleep  of  death  to  wake  in  everlasting  life." 

Tears  started  into  the  eyes  of  H albert.  "I  thank  you, 
reverend  father ;  I  have  indeed  drawn  near  the  end  of  my 
pilgrimage.  Too  old  to  serve  my  dear  Sir  William  in  fields 
of  blood  and  hardship,  I  will  at  least  devote  my  last  hours 
in  uniting  my  prayers  with  his  and  all  good  souls  for  the 
repose  of  his  lady.  I  accept  your  invitation  with  gratitude ; 
and  considering  it  a  call  from  Heaven  to  give  me  rest,  I 
shall  welcome  the  day  that  marks  the  poor  harper  of  Ellers- 
lie  with  the  sacred  tonsure." 

The  sound  of  approaching  trumpets,  and,  soon  after,  the 
clattering  of  horses  and  the  clang  of  armor,  made  an  in- 
stantaneous silence  in  the  cell.  Helen  looked  fearfully  at 
her  cousin,  and  grasped  his  hand ;  Murray  clasped  his 
sword  with  a  firmer  hold.  "  I  will  protect  you  with  my 
life." 

He  spoke  in  a  low  tone,  but  the  soldier  heard  him: 
"  There  is  no  cause  of  alarm,"  rejoined  he ;  "  Lord  de 
Valence  is  only  marching  by  in  his  way  to  Dumbarton." 

"  Alas,  my  poor  father !  "  cried  Helen,  covering  her  face 
with  her  hands. 

The  venerable  prior,  pitying  her  affliction,  knelt  down  by 


THE   CHAPTER-HOUSE.  lOI 

her.  "  My  daughter,  be  comforted,"  said  he ;  "  they  dare 
not  commit  any  violence  on  the  earl.  King  Edward  too 
well  understands  his  own  interest  to  allow  even  a  long  im- 
prisonment of  so  popular  a  nobleman."  This  assurance, 
assisted  by  the  consolations  of  a  firm  trust  in  God,  at  length 
raised  her  head  with  a  meek  smile.  He  continued  to  speak 
of  the  impregnable  hopes  of  the  Christian  who  founds  his 
confidence  in  Omnipotence ;  and  while  his  words  spread  a 
serenity  through  her  soul  that  seemed  the  ministration  of 
a  descended  saint,  she  closed  her  hands  over  her  breast  and 
silently  invoked  the  protection  of  the  Almighty  Jehovah 
for  her  suffering  parent. 

The  prior,  seeing  her  composed,  recommended  leaving 
her  to  rest.  And  Helen,  comforted  by  holy  meditations, 
allowing  them  to  depart,  he  led  Murray  and  his  companions 
into  the  convent  library. 


CHAPTER   X. 

THE   CHAPTER-HOUSE. 

THE  march  of  De  Valence  from  the  castle  having  proved 
that  no  suspicion  of  any  of  its  late  inhabitants  being 
still  in  the  neighborhood  remained  with  its  usurpers,  Grims- 
by thought  he  might  depart  in  safety ;  and  next  morning 
he  begged  permission  of  the  prior  to  commence  his  journey. 
"  I  am  anxious  to  quit  a  land,"  said  he,  "  where  my  country- 
men are  committmg  violences  which  make  me  blush  at  the 
name  of  Englishman." 

Murray  put  a  purse  of  gold  into  the  soldier's  hand,  as 
the  prior  covered  his  armor  with  a  pilgrim's  gown.  Grims- 
by, with  a  respectful  bow,  returned  the  gift :  "  I  cannot 
take  money  from  you,  my  lord.  Bestow  on  me  the  sword 
that  is  at  your  side,  and  I  will  preserve  it  forever." 

Murray  took  it  off  and  gave  it  to  the  soldier.  "  Let  us 
exchange,  my  brave  friend,"  said  he  ;  "  give  me  yours,  and 
I  will  regard  it  as  a  memorial  of  having  found  virtue  in  an 
Englishman." 


102  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

Grimsby  complied  with  his  wish ;  and  as  he  put  the  iron 
hilt  into  his  hand,  a  tear  stood  in  his  eye.  "  When  you  raise 
this  sword  against  my  countrymen,  think  on  Grimsby,  and 
spare  the  blood  of  all  who  ask  for  mercy." 

Murray  looked  a  gracious  assent,  for  the  tear  of  mercy 
was  infectious.  Without  speakmg,  he  gave  the  good  sol- 
dier a  parting  grasp  of  the  hand  ;  and  with  regret  that  supe- 
rior claims  called  so  brave  a  man  from  his  side,  he  saw  him 
leave  the  monastery.^ 

The  mourner  banquets  on  memory,  making  that  which 
seems  the  poison  of  life  its  aliment.  During  the  hours  of 
regret  we  recall  the  images  of  departed  joys  ;  and  in  weep- 
ing over  each  tender  remembrance,  tears  so  softly  shed 
embalm  the  wounds  of  grief.  To  be  denied  the  privilege  of 
pouring  forth  our  love  and  our  lamentations  over  the  grave 
of  one  who  in  life  was  our  happiness,  is  to  shut  up  the  soul 
of  the  survivor  in  a  solitary  tomb,  where  the  bereaved 
heart  pines  in  secret  till  it  breaks  with  the  fulness  of  un- 
communicated  sorrow.  But  listen  to  the  mourner,  give  his 
feelings  way,  and  like  the  river  rolling  from  the  hills  into 
the  valley,  they  will  flow  with  a  gradually  gentler  stream 
till  they  become  lost  in  time's  wide  ocean. 

So  Murray  judged,  when  the  poor  old  harper,  finding  him- 
self alone  with  him,  again  gave  loose  to  his  often  recapitu- 
lated griefs.  He  wept  like  an  infant ;  and  recounting  the 
afflictions  of  his  master  and  the  disasters  at  Bothwell, 
implored  Murray  to  go  without  delay  to  support  the  now 
almost  friendless  Wallace.  Murray  was  consoling  him 
with  the  assurance  that  he  would  set  off  for  the  mountains 
that  very  evening,  when  the  prior  returned  to  conduct 
H albert  to  a  cell  appointed  for  his  novitiate.  The  good 
man  had  placed  there  one  of  his  most  pious  fathers,  to  ad- 
minister both  temporal  and  spiritual  cordials  to  the  aged 
sufferer. 

1  Grimsby  is  recorded  as  having  been  originally  in  the  service  of  the  King 
of  England.  His  after  attachment  to  Wallace  is  also  mentioned  as  a 
matter  of  fact.  Most  of  the  followers  of  the  knight  of  Ellerslie  who  are 
particularized  in  these  volumes  are  named  from  authority.  Stephen  Ire- 
land, "  The  veteran  of  Largs,"  makes  an  eminent  figure  in  the  epic  song 
of  "Ye  Actis  and  Deidis  of  ye  Vailzeand  Campioun  Shyr  William 
Wallace." 


THE   CHAPTER-HOUSE.  IO3 

The  sorrowing  domestic  of  Wallace  being  thus  disposed 
of,  the  prior  and  Murray  remained  together,  consulting  on 
the  safest  means  of  passing  to  the  Cartlane  hills.  A  lay 
brother  whom  the  prior,  by  the  young  lord's  wisli,  had  sent 
in  pursuit  of  Helen's  fifty  warriors  to  apprise  them  of  the 
English  being  in  the  craigs,  at  this  moment  entered  the 
library.  He  informed  the  father  that,  secure  in  his  religious 
garb,  he  had  penetrated  many  of  the  Cartlane  defiles,  but 
could  neither  see  nor  hear  anything  of  the  troop.  Every 
glen  or  height  was  occupied  by  the  English ;  and  from  a 
woman  of  whom  he  begged  a  draught  of  milk  he  had  learned 
how  closely  the  mountains  were  invested.  The  English 
commander,  in  his  zeal  to  prevent  provisions  being  con- 
veyed to  Wallace  and  his  famishing  garrison,  had  the  day 
before  stopped  a  procession  of  monks  who  were  bearing  a 
dead  youth  to  be  buried  in  the  cave  of  Saint  Columba.  He 
would  not  allow  them  to  ascend  the  heights  until  he  had 
examined  whether  the  bier  really  bore  the  body,  or  was  a 
vehicle  to  carry  food  to  the  beleaguered  Scots. 

In  the  midst  of  this  information  the  prior  and  his  friends 
were  startled  by  a  shout,  and  a  cry  of  "  Hang  the  traitor  !  " 

"  Our  brave  Englishman  has  fallen  into  their  hands," 
cried  Murray,  hastening  towards  the  door. 

"  What  would  you  do  ?  "  interrupted  the  prior,  catching 
hold  of  him.  "  Your  single  arm  could  not  save  the  soldier. 
The  Cross  has  more  power ;  I  will  seek  these  violent  men. 
Meanwhile  stay  here,  as  you  value  the  lives  of  all  in  the 
convent." 

Murray  had  now  recollected  himself,  and  acquiesced. 
The  prior  took  the  crucifix  from  the  altar,  and  ordering  the 
porter  to  throw  open  the  great  doors  (near  which  the  inces- 
sant shouting  seemed  to  proceed),  in  a  moment  he  appeared 
before  a  turbulent  band  of  soldiers,  who  were  dragging  a  man 
along,  fast  bound  with  their  leathern  belts.  Blood  trickling 
from  his  face  fell  on  the  hands  of  the  ruthless  wretches 
who,  with  horrid  yells,  were  threatening  him  with  death. 

The  prior,  raising  the  cross,  rushed  in  amongst  them, 
and  in  the  name  of  the  blessed  Son  who  died  on  that  tree, 
bade  them  stand  !  The  soldiers  trembled  before  the  holy 
majesty  of  his  figure  and  at  his  awful  adjuration.  The 
prior  looked  on  the  prisoner,  but  he  saw  not  the  dark  locks 


I04  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

of  the  Englishman;  it  was  the  yellow  hair  of  Scotland  that 
mingled  with  the  blood  on  his  forehead. 

"  Whither  do  you  hurry  that  wounded  man  ?  " 

"  To  his  death,"  answered  a  surly  fellow. 

"  What  is  his  offence  ?  " 

"  He  is  a  traitor." 

"  How  has  he  proved  it?" 

"  He  is  a  Scot,  and  he  belongs  to  the  disloyal  Lord  of 
Mar.  This  bugle  with  its  crowned  Falcon  proves  it," 
added  the  soldier,  holding  up  the  very  bugle  which  the 
earl  had  sent  by  H  albert  to  Wallace,  and  which  was 
ornamented  with  the  crest  of  Mar  wrought  in  gold. 

"That  this  has  been  Lord  Mar's,"  replied  the  prior, 
"  there  is  no  doubt ;  but  may  not  this  man  have  found  it  ? 
Or  may  it  not  have  been  given  to  him  by  the  earl  before 
that  chief  incurred  the  displeasure  of  King  Edward .'' 
Which  of  you  would  think  it  just  to  be  made  to  die  be- 
cause your  friend  was  condemned  to  the  scaffold  .''  Unless 
you  substantiate  your  charge  against  this  man  by  a  better 
proof  than  his  bugle,  his  death  would  be  a  murder  which 
the  Lord  of  life  will  requite  at  the  perdition  of  your  souls." 
As  the  father  spoke,  he  again  elevated  the  cross  ;  the  men 
turned  pale. 

"  I  am  a  minister  of  Christ,"  continued  he,  "  and  must 
be  the  friend  of  justice.  Release,  therefore,  that  wounded 
man  to  me.  Before  the  altar  of  the  Searcher  of  all  hearts 
he  shall  confess  himself;  and  if  I  find  that  he  is  guilty  un- 
to death,  I  promise  you,  by  the  holy  Saint  Fillan,  to  release 
him  to  your  commanding  officer,  and  to  let  justice  take  its 
course.  But  if  he  prove  innocent,  I  am  the  soldier  of 
Christ ;  and  no  monarch  on  earth  shall  wrest  his  children 
from  the  protection  of  the  Church." 

While  he  spake,  the  men  who  held  the  prisoner  had  let 
go  their  hold ;  and  the  prior,  stretching  out  his  hand  to 
him,  gave  him  to  a  party  of  monks  to  conduct  into  the 
convent.  To  convince  the  soldiers  that  he  meant  to  be 
disinterested,  —  that  it  was  the  man's  life  he  sought  to 
save,  and  not  the  spoil,  —  the  prior  returned  the  golden 
bugle,  and  bade  them  depart  in  peace. 

Awed  by  the  father's  address,  and  satisfied  with  the 
money  and   arms  of  which  they  had  rifled  the  stranger. 


THE   CHAPTER-HOUSE.  105 

the  marauders  retreated,  determining  to  say  nothing  of 
the  matter  to  the  officer  in  the  castle,  lest  he  should  de- 
mand the  horn,  which  they  resolved  to  break  up  and  divide 
with  the  rest  of  the  spoil  amongst  themselves.  Elated 
with  their  present  booty,  they  marched  off  to  pursue  their 
plundering  excursion.  Bursting  into  yeomen's  houses  and 
peasant  huts,  stripping  all  of  their  substance  who  did  or 
did  not  swear  fealty  to  Edward,  robbing  from  the  latter 
and  exacting  contributions  from  the  former,  —  while  vain 
prayers  for  mercy  and  unanswered  cries  for  redress  echoed 
dolefully  through  the  vale  of  Bothwell,  —  they  sped  gayly 
on,  as  if  murder  were  pastime  and  rapine  honor. 

The  prior  on  returning  into  the  convent  ordered  the  gates 
to  be  bolted.  When  he  entered  the  chapter-house,  finding 
the  monks  had  already  bound  up  the  wounds  of  the 
stranger,  he  made  a  sign  for  the  brethren  to  withdraw  ; 
and  then  approaching  the  young  man,  "  My  son,"  said  he, 
in  a  mild  tone,  "  you  heard  what  was  my  declaration  to 
the  men  from  whom  I  took  you  !  Answer  me  with  truth, 
and  you  will  find  that  virtue  and  repentance  have  alike  a 
refuge  in  the  arms  of  the  Church.  As  I  am  its  servant, 
no  man  needs  fear  to  confide  in  me.  Speak  with  candor ! 
How  came  you  by  that  bugle .''  " 

The  stranger  looked  steadfastly  on  his  questioner.  "  A 
minister  of  the  all-righteous  God  cannot  mean  to  deceive. 
You  have  saved  my  life ;  and  I  should  be  less  than  man 
could  I  doubt  the  evidence  of  that  deed.  I  received  that 
bugle  from  a  brave  Scot  who  dwells  amongst  the  eastern 
mountains,  and  who  gave  it  to  me  to  convince  the  Earl  of 
Mar  that  I  came  from  him." 

The  prior  apprehended  that  it  was  of  Wallace  he  spoke. 
"  You  come  to  request  military  aid  from  the  Earl  of  Mar  ?  " 
rejoined  the  father,  willing  to  sound  him  before  he  com- 
mitted Murray,  by  calling  him  to  the  conference. 

The  stranger  replied  :  "If,  reverend  sir,  you  are  in  the 
confidence  of  the  good  earl,  pronounce  but  the  Christian 
name  of  the  man  who  charged  me  with  the  bugle,  and 
allow  me  then,  for  his  sake,  to  ask  you  what  has  indeed 
happened  to  the  earl,  that  I  was  seized  by  foes  when  I  ex- 
pected to  meet  with  friends  only.  Reply  to  this,  and  I 
shall  speak  freely ;  but  at  present,  though  I  would  confide 


I06  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

all  of  myself  to  your  sacred  character,  yet  the  confidence 
of  others  is  not  mine  to  bestow." 

The  prior,  being  convinced  by  this  caution  that  he  was 
speaking  with  some  messenger  of  Wallace,  made  no  hesita- 
tion to  answer :  "  Your  master  is  a  knight ;  and  a  braver 
never  drew  breath  since  the  time  of  his  royal  namesake 
William  the   Lion  !  " 

The  man  rose  hastily  from  his  seat,  and  falling  on  his 
knee  before  the  prior,  put  his  garment  to  his  lips.  "  Father, 
I  now  know  that  I  am  with  a  friend  of  my  persecuted 
master !  If,  indeed,  the  situation  of  Lord  Mar  precludes 
all  assistance  from  him,  all  hope  is  lost !  The  noble  Wal- 
lace is  penned  within  the  hills  without  any  hopes  of  escape. 
Suffer  me,  then,  thou  venerable  saint,  to  rejoin  him  immedi- 
ately, that  I  may  at  least  die  with  my  friend  !  " 

"  Hope  for  a  better  destiny,"  returned  the  prior  ;  "  I  am 
a  servant,  and  not  to  be  worshipped  ;  turn  to  that  altar, 
and  kneel  to  Him  who  can  alone  send  the  succor  you  need." 

The  good  man,  thinking  it  was  now  time  to  call  the 
young  lord  of  Bothwell,  by  a  side-door  from  the  chajjter- 
house  entered  the  library  where  Murray  was  anxiously 
waiting  his  return.  On  his  entrance,  the  impatient  youth 
eagerly  exclaimed,  "  Have  you  rescued  him  ?  " 

"I  have  rescued  some  one,"  answered  he,  "but  not 
Grimsby.  He,  I  hope,  is  far  and  safely  on  his  journey. 
The  man  those  murderers  were  dragging  to  death  is  in  the 
chapter-house.  Follow  me,  and  he  will  give  you  news  of 
Wallace." 

Murray  gladly  obeyed. 

At  sight  of  a  Scottish  knight  in  armor,  the  messenger  of 
Wallace  thought  his  prayers  were  answered,  and  that  he 
saw  before  him  the  leader  of  the  host  which  was  to  march 
to  the  preservation  of  his  brave  commander.  Murray  told 
him  who  he  was,  and  learned  from  him  in  return  that  Wal- 
lace now  considered  himself  in  a  state  of  siege ;  that  the 
women,  children,  and  old  men  had  nothing  to  feed  on  but 
wild  strawberries,  and  birds'  eggs  which  they  found  in  the 
hollows  of  the  rocks.  "  To  relieve  them  from  such  hard 
quarters,"  continued  the  narrator,  "  is  his  first  wish  ;  but 
that  cannot  be  effected  by  so  small  a  number,  who  to  do  it 
must  cut  their  way  through  a  strong  barrier  of  English 


THE   CHAPTER-HOUSE.  10/ 

soldiers.  However,  he  would  make  the  attempt  by  a  strat- 
agem, could  his  means  be  strengthened  by  succors  from 
the  Earl  of  Mar." 

"  My  uncle's  means,"  replied  Murray,  "  are  for  a  time 
cut  off  ;  but  mine  shall  be  exerted  to  the  utmost.  Did  you 
not  meet  in  your  way  hither  a  company  of  Scots,  to  the 
number  of  fifty,  whom  I  sent  off  yesterday  to  the  support 
of  our  gallant  friend  ?  " 

"  No,"  rejoined  the  young  man.  "  I  fear  they  have  been 
taken  by  the  enemy ;  for  in  my  way  to  Sir  William  Wal- 
lace, not  knowing  the  English  were  so  close  to  his  sanctu- 
ary, I  was  nearly  seized  myself.  I  had  not  the  honor  of 
being  under  his  command  when  he  struck  the  first  blow  for 
Scotland  in  the  citadel  of  Lanark ;  but  as  soon  as  I  heard 
the  tale  of  his  wrongs,  and  that  he  had  retired  in  arms 
towards  the  Cartlane  craigs,  I  determined  to  follow  his 
fortunes.  We  had  been  companions  in  our  boyish  days, 
and  friends  ever  after.  He  had  saved  my  life  once  in 
swimming  ;  and  now  that  a  formidable  nation  menaced  his, 
I  vowed  to  defend  him  with  mine.  For  this  purpose  a  few 
nights  ago  I  left  my  guardian's  house  by  stealth,  and  sought 
my  way  to  my  friend.  To  my  astonishment,  I  found  the 
banks  of  the  Mouse  occupied  by  the  English  ;  but  still 
pursuing  my  course,  and  exploring  the  most  intricate  pas- 
sages, I  at  last  gained  the  bottom  of  the  precipice  on  the 
top  of  which  Wallace  was  encamped ;  and  as  I  lay  watch- 
ing an  opportunity  to  ascend,  I  perceived  two  English 
soldiers  through  the  bushes.  They  were  in  discourse  ;  and 
from  them  I  learned  that  besides  Heselrigge  himself,  nearly 
two  hundred  of  his  garrison  had  fallen  by  the  hand  of  Wal- 
lace's men  in  the  contention  at  the  castle.  The  tidings  had 
been  sent  to  Sir  Richard  Arnulf,  the  deputy-governor  of 
Ayr :  and  he  dispatched  a  thousand  men  to  surround  Cart- 
lane  craigs.  Spies  soon  gave  notice  that  they  were  Sir  Wil- 
liam's strongholds  ;  and  the  orders  were  that  he  should  be 
taken  dead  or  alive,  and  his  adherents,  men  and  women, 
receive  no  quarter. 

Such  was  the  information  I  brought  to  my  gallant  friend, 
when  in  the  dead  of  night  I  mounted  the  rock,  and  cal- 
ling to  the  Scottish  sentinel  in  Gaelic,  gave  him  my 
name,  and  was  allowed  to  enter  that  sacred  spot.     Wallace 


I08  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

welcomed  his  faithful  Ker,  and  unfolded  to  me  his  distress 
and  his  hopes.  He  told  me  of  the  famine  that  threatened 
his  little  garrison,  of  the  constant  watching,  day  and  night, 
that  was  necessary  to  prevent  a  surprise.  In  this  extremity 
he  observed  that  one  defile  was  but  thinly  guarded  by  the 
enemy,  because,  as  it  lay  at  the  bottom  of  a  perpendicular 
angle  of  the  rock,  they  thought  it  unattainable  by  Wallace. 
To  this  point,  however,  my  dauntless  friend  turns  his  eyes. 
He  would  attempt  it,  could  he  procure  a  sufficient  number 
of  fresh  men  to  cover  the  retreat  of  his  exhausted  few. 
For  this  purpose,  as  I  had  so  lately  explored  the  most  hid- 
den paths  of  the  craigs,  I  volunteered  to  visit  the  Lord 
Mar,  and  to  conduct  in  safety  any  succors  he  might  send 
to  my  commander. 

"This,"  continued  Ker,  "was  the  errand  on  which  I 
came  to  the  earl.  Think,  then,  what  was  my  horror,  when 
in  my  journey  I  found  redoubled  legions  hemming  in  the 
hills ;  and  on  advancing  towards  Bothwell  castle,  was  seized 
by  a  party  of  English,  rifled,  and  declared  an  accomplice 
with  that  nobleman,  who  was,  they  said,  condemned  to  lose 
his  head  ! " 

"  Not  so  bad  as  that,  neither,  my  good  Ker,"  said  Murray, 
a  glow  of  indignation  passing  over  his  cheek ;  "  many  a 
bull's  head  ^  shall  frown  in  this  land,  on  the  Southron  tables, 
before  my  uncle's  neck  gluts  their  axes  !  No  true  Scottish 
blood,  I  trust,  will  ever  stain  their  scaffolds  ;  for  while  we 
have  arms  to  wield  swords,  he  must  be  a  fool  that  grounds 
them  on  any  other  terms  than  Freedom  or  Death.  We 
have  cast  our  lives  on  the  die  ;  and  Wallace's  camp  or  the 
narrow  house  must  be  our  prize  !  " 

"  Brave  youth  !  "  exclaimed  the  prior,  "  may  the  inno- 
cence which  gives  animation  to  your  courage  continue  its 
moving  soul !  They  only  are  invincible  who  are  as  ready 
to  die  as  to  live ;  and  no  one  can  be  firm  in  that  principle 
whose  exemplary  life  is  not  a  happy  preparation  for  the 
awful  change." 

Murray  bowed  modestly  to  this  pious  encomium,  and 
turning  to  Ker,  informed  him  that  since  he  must  abandon 

1  A  bull's  head  presented  at  a  feast  was  a  sign  that  some  one  of  the 
company  was  immediately  to  be  put  to  death. 


DRUMSHARGARD.  IO9 

all  hope  of  hearing  any  more  of  the  fifty  brave  men  his 
cousin  Helen  had  sent  to  the  craigs,  he  had  bethought  him 
of  applying  to  his  uncle  Sir  John  iVIurray,  who  dwelt  hard 
by  on  his  estate  at  Drumshargard.  "  It  is  small,"  said  he, 
•'  and  cannot  afford  many  men  ;  but  still  he  may  spare  us 
sufficient  to  effect  the  escape  of  our  commander,  —  and 
that,  for  the  present,  will  be  enough." 

To  accomplish  his  design  without  delay,  for  promptitude 
he  regarded  as  the  earnest  of  success,  and  to  avoid  a  sur- 
prise from  the  English  lieutenant  at  Bothwell  (who,  hearing 
of  the  rencontre  before  the  castle,  might  choose  to  demand 
his  men's  prisoner),  Murray  determined  to  take  Ker  with 
him,  —  and,  disguised  as  peasants,  as  soon  as  darkness 
should  shroud  their  movements,  proceed  to  Drumshargard. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

DRUMSHARGARD. 

WHILE  these  transactions  occupied  the  morning, 
Lady  Helen,  who  the  night  before  had  been  re- 
moved to  the  cell  appointed  for  her,  slept  long  and  sweetly. 
Her  exhausted  frame  had  found  renovation,  and  she  awoke 
with  a  heavenly  calm  at  her  heart.  A  cheering  vision  had 
visited  her  sleeping  thoughts ;  and  a  trance  of  happy  feel- 
ings still  absorbed  her  senses,  as  her  hardly  disengaged 
spirit  hovered  over  its  fading  images. 

She  had  seen  in  her  dream  a  young  knight  enter  her  cell, 
bearing  her  father  in  his  arms.  He  laid  the  earl  down  be- 
fore her;  but  as  she  stooped  to  embrace  him  the  knight 
took  her  by  the  hand,  and  leading  her  to  the  window  of  the 
apartment,  which  seemed  extended  to  an  immense  size,  he 
smiled  and  said,  "  Look  out,  and  see  how  I  have  performed 
my  vow  !  "  She  obeyed,  and  saw  crowds  of  rejoicing  peo- 
ple, who  at  the  sight  of  the  young  warrior  raised  such  a 
shout  that  Helen  awoke.  She  started,  she  looked  around: 
she  was  still  in  the  narrow  cell  and  alone ;  but  the  rapture 
of  beholding  her  father  yet  fluttered  at  her  heart,  and  the 


no  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

touch  of  the  warrior's  hand  seemed  still  warm  upon  hers. 
"  Angels  of  rest,"  cried  she,  "  I  thank  you  for  this  blest 
vision !  " 

The  prior  of  St.  Fillan  might  have  read  his  own  just  sen- 
timent in  the  heart  of  Lady  Helen.  Though  the  gentlest 
of  human  beings,  she  was  an  evidence  that  an  ardent  and 
pious  mind  contains  the  true  principles  of  heroism.  Its 
hopes  tread  down  impossibilities,  and  regardless  of  impedi- 
ments or  dangers,  rush  forward  to  seize  the  prize.  In  the 
midst  of  hosts,  it  feels  a  conqueror's  power ;  or  where  it  is 
feeble,  sees,  by  the  eye  of  faith,  legions  of  watching  angels 
to  strengthen  natural  weakness.  Lady  Helen  knew  that 
the  cause  was  just  which  had  put  the  sword  into  the  hand 
of  Wallace,  that  it  was  virtue  which  had  prompted  her 
father  to  second  him ;  and  where  justice  is,  there  are  the 
wings  of  the  Most  High  stretched  out  as  a  shield ! 

This  dream  seemed  prophetic.  "  Yes,"  cried  she,  "  though 
thousands  of  Edward's  soldiers  surrounded  my  father  and 
his  friend  I  should  not  despair.  Thy  life,  O  noble  Wallace, 
was  not  given  to  be  extinguished  in  an  hour !  Thy  morn 
has  hardly  risen;  the  perfect  day  must  come  that  is  to  de- 
velop thy  greatness,  —  that  is  to  prove  thee  (and,  O  gracious 
God,  grant  my  prayer !)  the  glory  of  Scotland  !  " 

Owing  to  the  fervor  of  her  apostrophe,  she  did  not  ob- 
serve the  door  of  the  cell  open,  till  the  prior  stood  before 
her.  After  expressing  his  pleasure  at  the  renovation  in  her 
countenance,  he  informed  her  of  the  departure  of  the  Eng- 
lish soldier,  and  of  the  alarm  which  he  and  Murray  had 
sustained  for  his  safety,  by  the  adventure  which  had  thrown 
a  stranger  from  the  craigs  into  their  protection.  At  the 
mention  of  that  now  momentous  spot  she  blushed ;  the 
golden-haired  warrior  of  her  dream  seemed  ready  to  rise 
before  her,  and  with  a  beating  heart  she  prepared  to  hear 
some  true  but  miraculous  account  of  her  father's  rescue. 

Unconscious  of  what  was  passing  in  her  young  and  eager 
mind,  the  prior  calmly  proceeded  to  relate  all  that  Ker  had 
said  of  the  dangerous  extremity  to  which  Wallace  was  re- 
duced, and  then  closed  his  intelligence  by  mentioning  the 
attempt  which  her  cousin  meditated  to  save  him.  The 
heightened  color  gradually  faded  from  the  face  of  Helen, 
and  low  sighs  were  her  only  responses  to  the  observations 


DR  UMSHA  RGARD.  Ill 

he  made  on  the  difficulty  of  the  enterprise.  But  when  his 
pity  for  the  brave  men  engaged  in  the  cause  compelled  him 
unthinkingly  to  express  his  fears  that  the  patriotic  zeal  of 
Wallace  would  only  make  him  and  them  a  sacrifice,  Helen 
looked  up ;  there  was  inspiration  on  her  lips  and  in  her 
eyes.  "Father,"  said  she,  "has  thou  not  taught  me  that 
God  shieldeth  the  patriot  as  well  as  armeth  him  ?  " 

"  True,"  returned  he,  with  an  answering  smile  ;  "  steadily 
believe  this,  and  where  will  be  the  sighs  you  have  just  been 
breathing  ? " 

"  Nature  will  shrink,"  replied  she  ;  "  but  the  Christian's 
hope  checks  her  ere  she  falls.  Pardon  me,  then,  holy 
father,  that  I  sometimes  weep  ;  but  they  are  often  tears  of 
trust  and  consolation." 

"Daughter  of  Heaven,"  replied  the  good  prior,  "you 
might  teach  devotion  to  age,  and  cause  youth  to  be  enam- 
ored of  the  graces  of  religion  !  Be  ever  thus,  and  you  may 
look  with  indifference  on  the  wreck  of  worlds." 

Helen,  having  meekly  replied  to  this  burst  from  the  heart 
of  the  holy  man,  begged  to  see  her  cousin  before  he  set  off 
on  his  expedition.  The  prior  withdrew ;  and  in  an  hour 
Murray  entered  the  apartment.  Their  conversation  was 
long,  and  their  parting  full  of  an  interest  that  dissolved 
them  both  into  tears.  "  When  I  see  you  again,  my  brave 
cousin,  tell  me  that  my  father  is  free  and  his  preserver  safe. 
Your  own  life,  dear  Andrew,"  added  she,  as  he  pressed  his 
cheek  to  hers,  "  must  always  be  precious  to  me." 

Murray  hastily  withdrew,  and  Helen  was  again  alone. 

The  young  chieftain  and  Ker  covered  their  armor  with  a 
peasant's  garb  ;  and  having  received  a  thousand  blessings 
from  the  prior  and  H albert,  they  proceeded  under  cover  of 
the  night  through  the  obscurest  paths  of  the  wood  which 
divided  Bothwell  from  Drumshargard. 

Sir  John  Murray  was  gone  to  rest  when  his  nephew 
arrived.  But  Lord  Andrew's  voice  being  well  known  by 
the  porter,  he  was  admitted  into  the  house ;  and  leaving 
his  companion  in  the  dining-hall,  he  went  to  the  apartment 
of  his  uncle.  The  old  knight  was  soon  aroused;  and  he 
welcomed  his  nephew  with  open  arms,  for  he  had  feared, 
from  the  accounts  brought  by  the  fugitive  tenants  of  Both- 
well,  that  he  also  had  been  carried  away  prisoner. 


112  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

Murray  now  unfolded  his  errand  :  first,  to  obtain  a  band 
of  Sir  John's  trustiest  people  to  assist  in  rescuing  the  pre- 
server of  the  earl's  life  from  immediate  destruction ;  and 
secondly,  if  a  commission  for  Lord  Mar's  release  did  not 
arrive  from  Edward,  to  aid  him  to  free  his  uncle  and  the 
countess  from  Dumbarton  castle. 

Sir  John  listened  with  growing  anxiety  to  his  nephew's 
details.  When  he  heard  of  Lady  Helen's  continuing  in  the 
convent,  he  highly  approved  it.  "  That  is  well,"  said  he ; 
"  to  have  taken  her  to  any  private  protection  would  have 
been  to  spread  calamity.  She  might  have  been  traced,  and 
her  protector  put  in  danger;  none  but  the  Church  can  with 
safety  to  itself  grant  an  asylum  to  the  daughter  of  a  state 
prisoner." 

"  Then  I  doubly  rejoice  she  is  there,"  replied  Murray, 
"and  there  she  will  remain,  till  your  generous  assistance 
empowers  me  to  rescue  her  father." 

"  Lord  Mar  has  been  very  rash,  nephew,"  returned 
Drumshargard.^  "  What  occasion  was  there  for  him  to 
volunteer  sending  men  to  support  Sir  William  Wallace; 
and  how  durst  he  bring  ruin  on  Bothwell  castle  by  col- 
lecting, unauthorized  by  my  brother,  its  vassals  for  such  a 
dangerous  experiment  ? " 

Murray  started  at  these  unexpected  observations.  He 
knew  his  uncle  was  timid,  but  he  had  never  suspected  him 
of  meanness ;  however,  in  consideration  of  the  respect  he 
owed  to  him  as  his  father's  brother,  he  smothered  his  disgust 
and  gave  him  a  mild  answer.  But  the  old  man  could  not 
approve  of  a  nobleman  of  his  rank  running  himself,  his 
fortune,  and  his  friends  into  peril,  to  pay  any  debt  of  grati- 
tude ;  and  as  to  patriotic  sentiments  being  a  stimulus,  he 
treated  the  idea  with  contempt.  "  Trust  me,  Andrew,"  said 
he,  "  nobody  profits  by  these  notions  but  thieves,  and  des- 
perate fellows  who  are  ready  to  become  thieves." 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,  sir." 

"  Not  understand  me  1 "  replied  the  knight,  rather  impa- 
tiently. "  Who  suffers  in  these  '  contests  for  liberty,'  as 
you  choose  to  call  them,  but  such  men  as  Lord  Mar  and 
your  father  ?     Betrayed  by  artful  declamation,  they  rush 

1  It  is  a  Scottish  custom  to  distinguish  chieftains  of  the  same  name 
by  the  title  of  their  estates. 


DRUMSHARGARD.  1 1 3 

into  conspiracies  against  the  existing  government,  are  de- 
tected, ruined,  and  perhaps  finally  lose  their  lives  !  Who 
gains  by  rebellion  but  a  few  penniless  wretches,  that  em- 
brace these  vaunted  principles  from  the  urgency  of  their 
necessities  ?  They  acquire  plunder  under  the  mask  of 
extraordinary  disinterestedness  ;  and  hazarding  nothing  of 
themselves  but  their  worthless  lives,  they  would  make  tools 
of  the  first  men  in  the  realm,  and  throw  the  whole  country 
into  flames  that  they  may  catch  a  few  brands  from  the 
fire  !  " 

Young  Murray  felt  his  anger  rise  with  this  speech. 
"  You  do  not  speak  to  my  point,  sir  !  I  do  not  come  here 
to  dispute  the  general  evil  of  revolt,  but  to  ask  your  assist- 
ance to  snatch  two  of  the  bravest  men  in  Scotland  from 
the  fangs  of  the  tyrant  who  has  made  you  a  slave  !  " 

"  Nephew  !  "  cried  the  knight,  starting  from  his  couch, 
and  darting  a  fierce  look  at  him,  "  if  any  man  but  one  of 
my  own  blood  had  uttered  that  word,  this  hour  should  have 
been  his  last." 

"  Every  man,  sir,"  continued  Murray,  "  who  acts  upon 
your  principles  must  know  himself  to  be  a  slave ;  and  to 
resent  being  called  so,  is  to  affront  his  own  conscience.  A 
name  is  nothing ;  the  fact  ought  to  knock  upon  your  heart, 
and  there  arouse  the  indignation  of  a  Scot  and  a  Murray. 
See  you  not  the  villages  of  your  country  burning  around 
you,  the  castles  of  your  chieftains  razed  to  the  ground  1 
Did  not  the  plains  of  Dunbar  reek  with  the  blood  of  your 
kinsmen  ;  and  even  now,  do  you  not  see  them  led  away 
in  chains  to  the  strongholds  of  the  tyrant  ?  Are  not  your 
stoutest  vassals  pressed  from  your  service  and  sent  into 
foreign  wars  ?  And  yet  you  exclaim,  '  I  see  no  injury  —  I 
spurn  at  the  name  of  slave  ! '  " 

Murray  rose  from  his  seat  as  he  ended,  and  walking  the 
room  in  agitation  did  not  perceive  the  confusion  of  his  uncle, 
who,  at  once  overcome  with  conviction  and  with  fear,  again 
ventured  to  speak :  "  It  is  too  sure  you  speak  truth,  Andrew ; 
but  what  am  I,  or  any  other  private  individual,  that  we 
should  make  ourselves  a  forlorn  hope  for  the  whole  nation  .' 
Will  Baliol,  who  was  the  first  to  bow  to  the  usurper,  will 
he  thank  us  for  losing  our  heads  in  resentment  of  his 
indignity  t     Bruce  himself,  the  rightful  heir  of  the  crown, 

VOL   I.  — 8 


114  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

leaves  us  to  our  fates,  and  has  become  a  courtier  in  Eng- 
land !  For  whom,  then,  should  I  adventure  my  gray  hairs 
and  the  quiet  of  my  home  to  seek  an  uncertain  liberty  and 
to  meet  an  almost  certain  death  ?  " 

"  For  Scotland,  uncle  !  "  replied  he.  "  Liberty  is  her 
right.  You  are  her  son ;  and  if  you  do  not  make  one  in 
the  grand  attempt  to  rescue  her  from  the  bloodhounds 
which  tear  her  vitals,  the  guilt  of  parricide  will  be  on  your 
soul !  Think  not,  sir,  to  preserve  your  home  or  even  your 
gray  hairs  by  hugging  the  chains  by  which  you  are  bound. 
You  are  a  Scot;  and  that  is  sufficient  to  arm  the  enemy 
against  your  property  and  life.  Remember  the  fate  of  Lord 
Monteith.  At  the  very  time  he  was  beset  by  the  parasites 
of  Edward,  and  persuaded  by  their  flatteries  to  be  alto- 
gether as  an  Englishman,  —  in  that  very  hour,  when  he  had 
taken  a  niece  of  Cressingham  to  his  arms,  by  her  hands  the 
vengeance  of  Edward  reached  him :  he  fell !  " 

Murray  saw  that  his  uncle  was  struck,  and  that  he 
trembled. 

"  But  I  am  too  insignificant,  Andrew  !  " 

"  You  are  the  brother  of  Lord  Bothwell ! "  answered 
Murraj^,  with  all  the  dignity  of  his  father  rising  in  his 
countenance.  "  His  large  possessions  made  him  a  traitor 
in  the  eyes  of  the  tyrant's  representatives.  Cressingham, 
as  treasurer  for  the  crew,  has  already  sent  his  lieutenant  to 
lord  it  in  our  paternal  castle ;  and  do  not  deceive  yourself 
in  believing  that  some  one  of  his  officers  will  not  require 
the  fertile  fields  of  Drumshargard  as  a  reward  for  his 
services  !  No,  cheat  not  yourself  with  the  idea  that  the 
brother  of  Lord  Bothwell  will  be  too  insignificant  to  share 
in  the  honor  of  bearing  a  part  in  the  confiscations  of  his 
country  !  Trust  me,  my  uncle,  the  forbearance  of  tyrants 
is  not  that  of  mercy,  but  of  convenience.  When  they  need 
your  wealth  or  your  lands  your  submission  is  forgotten,  and 
a  prison  or  the  axe  ready  to  give  them  quiet  possession." 

Sir  John  Murray,  though  a  timid  and  narrow-sighted 
man,  now  fully  comprehended  his  nephew's  reasoning ;  and 
his  fears  taking  a  different  turn,  he  hastily  declared  his 
determination  to  set  off  immediately  for  the  Highlands. 
"In  the  morning,  by  daybreak,"  said  he,  "  I  will  commence 
my  journey,  and  join  my  brother  at  Loch-awe ;  for  I  cannot 


DRUMSHARGARD.  II5 

believe  myself  safe  a  moment  while  so  near  the  garrisons 
of  the  enemy." 

Murray  approved  this  plan ;  and  after  obtaining  his 
hard-wrung  leave  to  take  thirty  men  from  his  vassals,  he 
returned  to  Ker  to  inform  him  of  the  success  of  his  mission. 
It  was  not  necessary,  neither  would  it  have  been  agreeable 
to  his  pride,  to  relate  the  arguments  which  had  been  re- 
quired to  obtain  this  small  assistance ;  and  in  the  course 
of  an  hour  he  had  brought  together  the  appointed  number 
of  the  bravest  men  on  the  estate.  When  equipped,  he  led 
them  into  the  hall  to  receive  their  last  commands  from  their 
feudal  lord. 

On  seeing  them  armed,  with  every  man  his  drawn  dirk  in 
his  hand,  Sir  John  turned  pale.  Murray,  with  the  unfolded 
banner  of  Mar  in  his  hand  and  Ker  by  his  side,  stood  at 
their  head. 

"  Young  men,"  said  the  old  knight,  striving  to  speak  in  a 
firm  tone,  "  in  this  expedition  you  are  to  consider  yourselves 
as  the  followers  of  my  nephew ;  he  is  brave  and  honorable, 
therefore  I  commit  you  to  his  command.  But  as  it  is  at 
his  earnest  petition,  I  am  not  answerable  to  any  man  for 
the  enterprises  to  which  he  may  lead  you." 

"  Be  they  all  on  my  own  head  !  "  cried  Murray,  blushing 
at  his  uncle's  pusillanimity,  and  drawing  out  his  sword  with 
an  impatience  that  made  the  old  knight  start.  "  We  now 
have  your  permission  to  depart,  sir  ?  " 

Sir  John  gave  a  ready  assent.  He  was  anxious  to  get  so 
hot-headed  a  youth  out  of  his  house,  and  to  collect  his  gold 
and  servants,  that  he  might  commence  his  own  flight  by 
break  of  day. 

It  was  still  dark  as  midnight  when  Murray  and  his  little 
company  passed  the  heights  above  Drumshargard,  and 
took  their  rapid  though  silent  march  towards  the  cliffs 
which  would  conduct  them  to  the  more  dangerous  passes 
of  the  Cartlane  craigs. 


Il6  THE    SCOTTISH  CHIEFS, 

CHAPTER   XII. 

BANKS    OF   THE   CLYDE. 

TWO  days  passed  drearily  away  to  Helen.  She  could 
not  expect  tidings  from  her  cousin  in  so  short  a  time. 
No  more  happy  dreams  cheered  her  lonely  hours ;  and 
anxiety  to  learn  what  might  be  the  condition  of  the  earl 
and  countess  so  possessed  her  that  visions  of  affright  now 
disturbed  both  her  waking  and  sleeping  senses.  Fancy 
showed  them  in  irons  and  in  a  dungeon ;  and  sometimes 
she  started  in  horror,  thinking  that  perhaps  at  that  mo- 
ment the  assassin's  steel  was  raised  against  the  life  of  her 
father. 

On  the  morning  of  the  third  day,  when  she  was  chiding 
herself  for  such  rebellious  despondence,  her  female  atten- 
dant entered  to  say  that  a  friar  was  come  to  conduct  her 
where  messengers  from  Dumbarton  awaited  to  deliver  a 
letter  to  her  from  Lady  Mar.  Helen  lingered  not  a  mo- 
ment, but  giving  her  hand  to  the  good  father,  was  led  by 
him  into  the  library,  where  the  prior  was  standing  between 
two  men  in  military  habits.  The  one  was  in  English  ar- 
mor, with  his  visor  closed;  the  other  a  knight,  and  in 
tartans.  The  Scot  presented  her  with  a  signet  set  in  gold. 
Helen  looked  on  it,  and  immediately  recognized  the  same 
that  her  stepmother  always  used. 

The  Scottish  knight  was  preparing  to  address  her,  when 
the  prior  interrupted  him,  and  taking  Lady  Helen's  hand, 
made  her  seat  herself.  "  Compose  yourself  for  a  few  min- 
utes," said  he ;  "  this  transitory  life  hourly  brings  forward 
events  to  teach  us  to  be  calm,  and  to  resign  our  wishes  and 
our  wills  to  the  Lord  of  all  things." 

Helen  looked  fearfully  in  his  face.  "  Some  evil  tidings 
are  to  be  told  me."  The  blood  left  her  lips ;  it  seemed 
leaving  her  heart  also.  The  prior,  full  of  compassion, 
hesitated  to  speak.     The  Scot  abruptly  answered  her :  — 

"  Be  not  alarmed,  lady ;  your  parents  have  fallen  into 
humane  hands.  I  am  sent  under  the  command  of  this 
noble  Southron  knight  to  conduct  you  to  them." 


BANKS  OF   THE   CLYDE.  WJ 

"  Then  my  father  lives  !  They  are  safe  !  "  cried  she,  in 
a  transport  of  joy,  and  bursting  into  tears. 

"He  yet  lives,"  returned  the  officer;  "but  his  wounds 
opening  afresh  and  the  fatigues  of  his  journey  have  so  ex- 
hausted him  that  Lord  Aymer  de  Valence  has  granted  the 
prayers  of  the  countess,  and  we  come  to  take  you  to  receive 
his  last  blessing." 

A  cry  of  anguish  burst  from  the  heart  of  Lady  Helen ; 
and  falling  into  the  arms  of  the  prior,  she  found  refuge  from 
woe  in  a  merciful  insensibility.  The  pitying  exertions  of 
the  venerable  father  at  last  recalled  her  to  recollection  and 
to  sorrow.  She  rose  from  the  bench  on  which  he  had  laid 
her,  and  begged  permission  to  retire  for  a  few  minutes. 
Tears  choked  her  further  utterance ;  and  being  led  out  by 
the  friar,  she  once  more  re-entered  her  cell. 

Lady  Helen  passed  the  moments  she  had  requested  in 
those  duties  which  alone  can  give  comfort  to  the  afflicted, 
even  when  all  that  is  visible  bids  us  despair;  and  rising 
from  her  knees  with  that  holy  fortitude  which  none  but  the 
devout  can  know,  she  took  her  mantle  and  veil,  and  throw- 
ing them  over  her,  sent  her  attendant  to  the  prior  to  say 
that  she  was  ready  to  set  out  on  her  journey,  and  wished 
to  receive  his  parting  benediction.  The  venerable  father, 
followed  by  Halbert,  obeyed  her  summons.  On  seeing  the 
poor  old  harper,  Helen's  heart  lost  some  of  its  newly  ac- 
quired composure.  She  held  out  her  hand  to  him;  he 
pressed  it  to  his  lips. 

"  Farewell,  sweetest  lady!  May  the  prayers  of  the  dear 
saint  to  whose  remains  your  pious  care  gave  a  holy  grave 
draw  down  upon  your  own  head  consolation  and  peace ! " 
The  old  man  sobbed;  and  the  tears  of  Lady  Helen,  as  he 
bent  upon  her  hand,  dropped  upon  his  silver  hair. 

"  May  Heaven  hear  you,  good  Halbert !  And  cease  not, 
venerable  man,  to  pray  for  me ;  for  I  go  into  the  hour  of 
trial." 

"  All  that  dwell  in  this  house,  my  daughter,"  rejoined  the 
prior,  "  shall  put  up  orisons  for  your  comfort,  and  for  the 
soul  of  the  departing  earl."  Observing  that  her  grief  aug- 
mented at  these  words,  he  proceeded  in  a  yet  more  soothing 
voice :  "  Regret  not  that  he  goes  before  you ;  for  what  is 
death  but  entrance  into  life?     It  is  the  narrow  gate  which 


Il8  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

shuts  us  from  this  dark  world  to  usher  us  into  another  of 
everlasting  light  and  happiness.  Weep  not,  then,  dear 
child  of  the  Church,  that  your  earthly  parents  precede  you 
to  the  heavenly  Father;  rather  say  with  the  virgin  Saint 
Bride :  'How  long,  O  Lord,  am  I  to  be  banished  thy  pres- 
ence ?  How  long  endure  the  prison  of  my  body,  before  I 
am  admitted  to  the  freedom  of  paradise,  to  the  bliss  of  thy 
saints  ? ' " 

Helen  raised  her  eyes,  yet  shining  in  tears,  and  with  a 
divine  smile  pressing  the  crucifix  to  her  breast,  "  You  do 
indeed  arm  me,  my  father  !     This  is  my  strength  !  " 

"  And  one  that  will  never  fail  thee  !  "  exclaimed  he.  She 
dropped  upon  one  knee  before  him.  He  crossed  his  hands 
over  her  head ;  he  looked  up  to  heaven  ;  his  bosom  heaved, 
his  lips  moved ;  then  pausing  a  moment,  "  Go,"  said  he ; 
"  and  may  the  angels  which  guard  innocence  minister  to 
your  sorrows  and  lead  you  into  peace  !  " 

Helen  bowed ;  and  breathing  inwardly  a  devout  response, 
she  rose,  and  followed  the  prior  out  of  the  cell.  At  the 
end  of  the  cloister  she  again  bade  farewell  to  H albert. 
Before  the  great  gates  stood  the  knights,  with  their  atten- 
dants. She  once  more  kissed  the  crucifix  held  by  the 
prior,  and  giving  her  hand  to  the  Scot,  was  placed  by  him 
on  a  horse  richly  caparisoned.  He  sprang  on  another  him- 
self; and  the  English  officer,  who  was  already  mounted, 
drawing  up  to  her,  she  pulled  down  her  veil,  and  all,  bow- 
ing to  the  holy  brotherhood  at  the  porch,  rode  off  at  a 
gentle  pace. 

A  long  stretch  of  woods  which  spread  before  the  monas- 
tery, and  screened  the  back  of  Bothwell  castle  from  being 
discernible  on  that  side  of  the  Clyde,  lay  before  them. 
Through  this  labyrinth  they  pursued  their  way  till  they 
crossed  the  river. 

"Time  wears,"  exclaimed  the  Scot  to  his  companion; 
"we  must  push  on." 

The  English  knight  nodded,  and  set  his  spurs  into  his 
steed.  The  whole  troop  now  fell  into  a  rapid  trot.  The 
banks  of  the  Aven  opened  into  a  hundred  beautiful  seclu- 
sions, which,  intersecting  the  deep  sides  of  the  river  with 
umbrageous  shades  and  green  hillocks,  seemed  to  shut 
them  from  the  world.     Helen  in  vain  looked  for  the  distant 


BANKS  OF   THE   CLYDE.  119 

towers  of  Dumbarton  castle  marking  the  horizon ;  no  hori- 
zon appeared,  but  a  range  of  rocks  and  wooded  precipices. 

A  sweet  breeze  played  through  the  valley,  and  revived 
her  harassed  frame.  She  put  aside  her  veil  to  enjoy  its 
freshness,  and  saw  that  the  knights  turned  their  horses' 
heads  into  one  of  the  obscurest  mountain  defiles.  She 
started  at  its  depth,  and  at  the  gloom  which  involved  its 
extremity.  "  It  is  our  nearest  path,"  said  the  Scot.  Helen 
made  no  reply ;  but  turning  her  steed,  followed  him,  there 
being  room  only  for  one  at  a  time  to  ride  along  the  narrow 
margin  of  the  river  that  flowed  at  its  base.  The  English- 
man, whose  voice  she  had  not  yet  heard,  and  the  attendants, 
followed  her.  It  was  with  difficulty  the  horses  could  make 
their  way  through  the  thickets  that  interlaced  the  pathway, 
which  was  so  confined  that  it  rather  seemed  a  cleft  made 
by  an  earthquake  in  the  mountain  than  a  road  for  the  use 
of  man. 

When  they  had  been  employed  for  an  hour  in  breaking 
their  way  through  this  trackless  glen  they  came  to  a  wider 
space,  where  other  and  broader  ravines  opened  before  them. 
The  Scot,  taking  one  to  the  right,  raised  his  bugle,  and 
blew  so  sudden  and  loud  a  blast  that  the  horse  on  which 
Lady  Helen  sat  took  fright,  and  began  to  plunge  and  rear, 
to  the  evident  hazard  of  throwing  her  into  the  stream. 
Some  of  the  dismounted  men,  seeing  her  danger,  seized 
the  horse  by  the  bridle ;  and  the  English  knight,  extricating 
her  from  the  saddle,  carried  her  in  his  arms  through  some 
clustering  bushes  into  a  cave,  and  laid  her  at  the  feet  of  an 
armed  man. 

Terrified  at  this  extraordinary  action  she  started  up  with 
a  piercing  shriek,  but  was  at  that  moment  enveloped  in  the 
arms  of  the  stranger,  while  a  loud  and  brutal  shout  of  ex- 
ultation was  uttered  by  the  Scot  who  stood  at  the  entrance. 
It  was  re-echoed  from  without.  There  was  horror  in  every 
sound.  "  Mighty  God,  protect  me  !  "  cried  she,  franticly 
striving  to  break  from  the  man  who  held  her.  "  Where  am 
I  ? "  cried  she,  looking  wildly  at  the  two  men  who  had 
brought  her.     "  Why  am  I  not  taken  to  my  father  ?  " 

She  received  no  answer;  and  both  the  Scot  and  the 
Englishman  left  the  place.  The  stranger  still  held  her 
locked  in  a  grasp  that  seemed  of  iron.     In  vain  she  strug- 


120  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

gled,  in  vain  she  shrieked,  in  vain  she  called  on  earth  and 
Heaven  for  assistance;  she  was  held  close,  and  still  he 
kept  silence.  Exhausted  with  terror  and  fruitless  attempts 
at  release,  she  put  her  hands  together,  and  in  a  calmer  tone 
exclaimed :  "  If  you  have  honor  or  humanity  in  your  heart, 
you  will  release  me !  I  am  an  unprotected  woman  praying 
for  your  mercy ;  withhold  it  not,  for  the  sake  of  Heaven 
and  your  own  soul !  " 

"  Kneel  to  me,  then,  thou  siren  !  "  cried  the  warrior,  with 
fierceness.  As  he  spoke  he  threw  the  tender  knees  of  Lady 
Helen  upon  the  rocky  floor. 

His  voice  echoed  terrible  in  her  ears ;  but  obeying  him, 
"  Free  me,"  cried  she,  "  for  the  sake  of  my  dying  father  !  " 

"  Never,  till  I  have  had  my  revenge  !  " 

At  this  dreadful  denunciation  she  shuddered  to  the  soul, 
but  yet  she  spoke :  "  Surely  I  am  mistaken  for  some  one 
else  !  Oh,  how  can  I  have  offended  any  man,  to  incur  so 
cruel  an  outrage  !  " 

The  warrior  burst  into  a  satanic  laugh,  and  throwing  up 
his  visor,  "  Behold  me,  Helen  !  "  cried  he,  grasping  her 
clasped  hands  with  a  horrible  force.    "  My  hour  is  come  !  " 

At  the  sight  of  the  dreadful  face  of  Soulis  she  compre- 
hended all  her  danger,  and  with  supernatural  strength  wrest- 
ing her  hands  from  his  hold,  she  burst  through  the  bushes 
out  of  the  cave.  Her  betrayers  stood  at  the  entrance,  and 
catching  her  in  their  arms  brought  her  back  to  their  lord. 
But  it  was  an  insensible  form  they  now  laid  before  him. 
Overcome  with  horror,  her  senses  fled.  Short  was  this  sus- 
pension from  miserj^ ;  water  was  thrown  on  her  face,  and 
she  awoke  to  recollection,  lying  on  the  bosom  of  her  enemy. 
Again  she  struggled,  again  her  cries  echoed  from  side  to  side 
of  the  cavern.  "  Peace  !  "  cried  the  monster ;  "  you  cannot 
escape,  —  you  are  mine  by  a  force  that  shall  compel  you 
to  submit.  How  often  have  I  knelt  at  your  feet,  begging 
for  that  mercy  on  my  passion  which  you  denied  !  Twice 
you  refused  to  be  my  wife ;  you  dared  to  despise  my  love 
and  my  power !  Now  you  shall  feel  my  hatred  and  my 
revenge !  " 

"Kill  me  !  "  cried  the  distracted  Helen,  "kill  me,  and  I 
will  bless  you  !  " 

"  That  would  be  a  poor  vengeance,"  cried  he  ;  "  you  must 


BANKS  OF  THE   CLYDE.  121 

be  humbled,  proud  minion,  —  you  must  learn  to  fawn  on 
me  for  a  smile,  to  woo  as  my  slave  for  one  of  those  embraces 
which  you  spurned  to  receive  as  my  wife." 

As  he  spoke  he  strained  her  to  his  breast,  with  the  con- 
tending expressions  of  passion  and  revenge  glaring  in 
his  eyes.  Helen  shrieked  at  the  pollution  of  his  Hps ; 
and  as  he  more  fiercely  held  her,  her  hand  struck  against 
the  hilt  of  his  dagger.  In  a  moment  she  drew  it,  and 
armed  with  the  strength  of  outraged  innocence,  unwit- 
ting whether  it  gave  death  or  not,  only  hoping  it  would 
release  her,  she  struck  it  into  his  side.  All  was  the 
action  of  an  instant;  and  as  instantaneously  he  caught 
her  wrist,  and  exclaiming,  "  Damnable  traitress  !  "  dashed 
her  from  him,  and  struck  her  stunned  and  motionless  to 
the  ground. 

The  weapon  had  not  penetrated  far.  But  the  sight  of 
his  blood  drawn  by  the  hand  of  a  woman  so  incensed  the 
raging  Soulis,  that  had  not  insensibility  been  her  security, 
perhaps  the  violence  of  his  unmanly  indignation  would 
have  repeated  the  blow,  and  at  once  have  rid  her  of  life 
and  his  indignities.  He  called  aloud  on  Macgregor.  The 
two  men  who  yet  stood  without  the  cave  re-entered.  They 
started  when  they  saw  a  dagger  in  his  hand,  and  Helen 
lying  apparently  lifeless,  with  blood  sprinkled  on  her 
garments. 

Macgregor,  who  had  personated  the  Scottish  knight,  in 
a  tremulous  voice  asked  why  he  had  killed  the  lady. 

Soulis  frowned.  "  Here  ! "  said  he,  throwing  open  his 
vest,  "  this  wound  that  beautiful  fiend,  whom  you  so  pite- 
ously  look  upon,  aimed  at  my  life  !  I  only  sought  to  force 
her  to  my  wishes ;  and  thus  did  she  requite  an  honor  which 
many  of  her  proud  sex  sigh  after  in  vain." 

"  My  lord,"  said  the  other  man,  "  I  expected  different 
treatment  for  the  Earl  of  Mar's  daughter." 

"  Base  Scot !  "  returned  Soulis,  "  when  you  brought  a 
woman  into  these  wilds  to  my  arms,  you  had  no  right  to 
expect  that  I  should  use  her  otherwise  than  as  1  pleased, 
and  you  as  the  servile  minister  of  my  pleasures.  From 
this  hour,  dare  to  pass  a  judgment  on  my  actions  and  your 
infamy  shall  be  published  wide  as  my  trumpets  can  blow 
the  tale." 


122  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

"  This  language,  Lord  Soulis  !  "  rejoined  the  man,  much 
agitated.  "  But  you  mistook  me.  I  meant  not  to  reproach." 
"  'T  is  well  you  did  not."  And  turning  from  him  with 
contempt,  he  listened  to  Macgregor,  who,  stooping  towards 
the  inanimate  Helen,  observed  that  her  pulse  beat.  "  Fool !  " 
returned  Soulis,  "did  you  think  I  would  so  rashly  throw 
away  what  I  have  been  at  such  pains  to  gain  ?  Call  your 
wife ;  she  knows  how  to  teach  these  minions  submission 
to  my  will." 

The  man  obeyed  ;  and  while  his  companion,  by  the 
command  of  Soulis,  bound  a  fillet  round  the  forehead  of 
Helen,  which  was  cut  by  the  flints,  the  chief  brought  two 
chains,  and  fastening  them  to  her  wrists  and  ankles,  ex- 
claimed with  brutal  triumph  as  he  locked  them  on  :  "  There, 
my  haughty  damsel  !  flatter  not  thyself  that  the  arms  of 
Soulis  shall  be  thine  only  fetters.  These  chains  bind  thee 
to  my  feet ;  and  no  more  daggers  shall  be  near  to  thwart 
my  revenge  !  " 

Macgregor's  wife  entered,  and  promised  to  obey  all 
her  lord's  injunctions.  When  she  was  left  alone  with  the 
breathless  body  of  Helen,  water,  and  a  few  cordial  drops 
which  she  poured  into  the  unhappy  lady's  mouth,  soon 
restored  her  to  her  senses.  On  opening  her  eyes,  the  sight 
of  one  of  her  own  sex  inspired  her  with  hope  ;  but  stretch- 
ing out  her  hands  in  supplication,  she  was  horror-struck  at 
finding  them  fastened,  and  at  the  clink  of  the  chains  as 
they  shook  against  each  other.  "  Why  am  I  thus  ?  "  de- 
manded she  of  the  woman ;  but  suddenly  recollecting  hav- 
ing attempted  to  pierce  Soulis  with  his  own  dagger,  and 
now  supposing  she  had  slain  him,  she  added,  "  Is  Lord 
Soulis  killed  ? " 

"  No,"  replied  the  woman,  "  my  husband  says  he  is  but 
slightly  hurt ;  and  surely  your  fair  face  belies  your  heart, 
when  you  could  attempt  the  life  of  so  brave  and  loving 
a  lord  !  " 

"  You  then  belong  to  him  ? "  cried  the  wretched  Helen, 
wringing  her  hands.  "Alas,  how  am  I  beset!  What  will 
be  my  unhappy  fate  !  O  Virgin  of  Heaven,  take  me  to 
thyself ! " 

"Heaven  forbid,"  cried  the  woman,  "that  you  should 
pray  against  being  the  favorite  lady  of  our  noble  chief ! 


BANKS   OF  THE   CLYDE.  1 23 

Many  are  the  scores  around  Hermitage  Castle  who  would 
come  hither  on  their  hands  and  knees  to  arrive  at  that 
happiness." 

"  Happiness  I  "  cried  Lady  Helen,  in  anguish  of  spirit. 
"  Oh,  it  can  visit  me  no  more  till  I  am  restored  to  my 
father,  —  till  I  am  released  from  the  power  of  Soulis  ! 
Give  me  liberty,"  continued  she,  wildly  grasping  the  arm 
of  the  woman,  "assist  me  to  escape,  and  half  the  wealth 
of  the  Earl  of  Mar  shall  be  your  reward  !  " 

"  Alas  !  "  returned  the  woman,  "  my  lord  would  burn  me 
on  the  spot,  and  murder  my  husband,  did  he  think  I  even 
listened  to  such  a  project.  No,  lady,  you  never  will  see 
your  father  more  ;  for  none  who  once  enter  my  lord's 
Hermitage  ever  wish  to  come  out  again." 

"The  Hermitage  !  "  cried  Helen,  starting  on  her  knees. 
"  O  Father  of  the  desolate,  have  mercy  upon  me  !  and 
never  let  me  live  to  enter  those  accursed  walls  !  " 

"  They  are  frightful  enough,  to  be  sure,"  returned  the 
woman ;  "  but  you,  gentle  lady,  will  be  princess  there ;  and 
in  all  things  commanding  the  kingly  heart  of  its  lord,  you 
have  rather  cause  to  bless  than  to  curse  the  castle  of 
Soulis." 

"Himself  and  all  that  bear  his  name  are  accursed  to 
me,"  returned  Helen;  "his  love  is  my  abomination  and 
his  hatred  my  dread.  Pity  me,  kind  creature ;  and  if  you 
have  a  daughter  whose  honor  is  dear  to  your  prayers,  think 
you  see  her  in  me,  and  have  compassion  on  me.  My 
life  is  in  your  hands ;  for  I  swear  before  the  throne  of 
Almighty  Purity,  that  Soulis  shall  see  me  die  rather  than 
dishonored  !  " 

"  Poor  young  soul !  "  cried  the  woman,  looking  at  her 
frantic  gestures  with  commiseration  ;  "  I  would  pity  you  if 
I  durst ;  but  I  repeat,  my  life,  and  my  husband's,  and  the 
lives  of  my  children,  who  are  now  near  Hermitage,  would 
all  be  sacrificed  to  the  rage  of  Lord  Soulis.  You  must  be 
content  to  submit  to  his  will."  Helen  closed  her  hands 
over  her  breast  in  mute  despair,  and  the  woman  went  on : 
"  And  as  for  the  matter  of  your  making  such  lamentations 
about  your  father,  if  he  be  as  little  your  friend  as  your 
mother  is,  you  have  not  much  cause  to  grieve  on  that 
score." 


124  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

Helen  started  aghast.  "  My  mother !  what  of  her  ? 
Speak,  tell  me  !  It  was  her  signet  that  betrayed  me  into 
these  horrors  !  She  cannot  have  consented  ■ —  oh,  no  !  — 
some  villains !  Speak ;  tell  me  what  you  would  say  of 
Lady  Mar!" 

Regardless  of  the  terrible  emotion  which  now  shook  the 
frame  of  her  auditor,  the  woman  coolly  replied  she  had 
heard  from  her  husband,  who  was  the  confidential  servant 
of  Lord  Soulis,  that  it  was  to  Lady  Mar  he  owed  the 
knowledge  of  Helen's  being  at  Bothwell.  The  countess 
had  written  a  letter  to  her  cousin,  Lord  Buchan,  who,  being 
a  sworn  friend  of  England,  was  then  with  Lord  de  Valence 
at  Dumbarton.  In  this  epistle  she  intimated  her  wish  that 
Lord  Buchan  would  devise  a  plan  to  surprise  Bothwell 
castle  the  ensuing  day;  to  prevent  the  departure  of  its 
armed  vassals,  then  preparing  to  march  to  the  support  of 
the  outlaw  Sir  William  Wallace,  who,  with  his  band  of 
robbers,  was  lurking  about  the  caverns  of  the  Cartlane 
craigs. 

When  this  letter  arrived.  Lord  Soulis  was  at  dinner  with 
the  other  lords;  and  Buchan  laying  it  before  De  Valence, 
they  all  consulted  what  was  best  to  be  done.  Lady  Mar 
begged  her  cousin  not  to  appear  in  the  affair  himself,  that 
she  might  escape  the  suspicions  of  her  lord,  —  who,  she 
strongly  declared,  was  not  arming  his  vassals  from  any  dis- 
loyal disposition  towards  the  King  of  England,  but  solely 
at  the  instigations  of  Wallace,  to  whom  he  romantically 
considered  himself  bound  by  the  ties  of  gratitude.  As  she 
gave  this  information,  she  hoped  that  no  attainder  would 
fall  upon  her  husband.  And  to  keep  the  transaction  as 
close  as  possible,  she  proposed  that  the  Lord  Soulis,  who 
she  understood  was  then  at  Dumbarton,  should  take  the 
command  of  two  or  three  thousand  troops,  and  marching 
to  Bothwell  next  morning,  seize  the  few  hundred  armed 
Scots  who  were  ready  to  proceed  to  the  mountains.  She 
ended  by  saying  that  her  daughter-in-law  was  in  the  castle ; 
which  she  hoped  would  be  an  inducement  to  Soulis  to  in- 
sure the  Earl  of  Mar's  safety,  for  the  sake  of  her  hand  as 
his  reward. 

The  greater  part  of  Lady  Mar's  injunctions  could  not  be 
attended  to,  as  Lord  de  Valence,  as  well  as  Soulis,  was 


BAXKS   OF  THE    CLYDE.  12$ 

made  privy  to  the  secret.  The  EngHsh  nobleman  declared 
that  he  should  not  do  his  duty  to  his  king  if  he  did  not 
head  the  force  that  went  to  quell  so  dangerous  a  conspi- 
racy; and  Soulis,  eager  to  go  at  any  rate,  joyfully  accepted 
the  honor  of  being  his  companion.  Lord  Buchan  was  easily 
persuaded  to  the  seizure  of  the  earl's  person,  as  De  Valence 
flattered  him  that  the  king  would  endow  him  with  the  Mar 
estates,  which  must  now  be  confiscated.  Helen  groaned  at 
the  latter  part  of  this  narration ;  but  the  woman,  without 
noticing  it,  proceeded  to  relate  how,  when  the  party  had 
executed  their  design  at  Bothwell  castle,  she  was  to  have 
been  taken  by  Soulis  to  his  castle  near  Glasgow ;  but  on 
that  wily  Scot  not  finding  her,  he  conceived  the  suspicion 
that  Lord  de  Valence  had  prevailed  on  the  countess  to  give 
her  up  to  him..  He  observed  that  the  woman  who  could  be 
prevailed  on  to  betray  her  daughter  to  one  man  would 
easily  be  bribed  to  repeat  the  crime  to  another,  and  under 
this  impression  he  accused  the  English  nobleman  of  treach- 
erj'.  De  Valence  denied  it  vehemently.  A  quarrel  ensued ; 
and  SouUs  departed  with  a  few  of  his  followers,  giving  out 
that  he  was  retiring  in  high  indignation  to  Dunglass.  But 
the  fact  was  he  lurked  about  in  Bothwell  wood,  and  from 
its  recesses  saw  Cressingham's  lieutenant  march  by  to  take 
possession  of  the  castle  in  the  king's  name.  A  deserter 
from  his  troops  fell  in  with  Lord  Soulis's  company ;  and 
Hying  to  him  for  protection,  a  long  private  conversation 
took  place  between  them.  At  this  period  one  of  the  spies 
who  had  been  sent  by  the  chief  in  quest  of  news  returned 
with  a  female  tenant  of  St.  Fillan's,  whom  he  had  seduced 
from  her  home.  She  told  Lord  Soulis  all  he  wanted  "to 
know,  —  informing  him  that  a  beautiful  young  lady,  who 
could  be  no  other  that  Lady  Helen  Mar,  was  concealed  in 
that  convent. 

On  this  information  Soulis  conversed  a  long  time  with 
the  stranger  from  Cressingham's  detachment ;  and  deter- 
mining on  taking  Helen  immediately  to  Hermitage,  that  the 
distance  of  Teviot  dale  might  render  a  rescue  less  probable, 
he  laid  his  plan  accordingly.  "  In  consequence,"  continued 
the  woman,  "  my  husband  and  the  stranger,  the  one  habited 
as  a  Scottish  and  the  other  as  an  Enghsh  knight,  —  for  my 
lord,  being  ever  on  some  wild  prank,  has  always  a  chest  of 


126  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

strange  dresses  with  him,  —  set  out  for  St.  Fillan's,  taking 
with  them  the  signet  which  your  mother  had  sent  with  her 
letter  to  the  earl  her  cousin.  Tliey  hoped  such  a  pledge  of 
their  truth  would  insure  them  credit.  You  know  the  tale 
they  invented ;  and  its  success  proves  my  lord  to  be  no  bad 
contriver. " 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

THE   PENTLAXD    HILLS. 

HELEN  listened  with  astonishment  and  grief  to  this 
too  probable  story  of  her  stepmother's  ill-judged 
tenderness  or  cruel  treachery ;  and  remembering  the  threats 
which  had  escaped  that  lady  in  their  last  conversation,  she 
saw  no  reason  to  doubt  what  so  clearly  explained  the  before 
inexplicable  seizure  of  her  father,  the  betraying  of  Wallace, 
and  her  own  present  calamity. 

"You  do  not  answer  me,"  rejoined  the  woman;  "but  if 
ycru  think  I  don't  say  true.  Lord  Soulis  himself  will  assure 
you  of  the  fact." 

"  Alas,  no !  "  returned  Helen,  profoundly  sighing  ;  "  I  be- 
lieve it  too  well.  I  see  the  depth  of  the  misery  into  which  I 
am  plunged.  And  yet,"  cried  she,  recollecting  the  imposi- 
tion the  men  had  put  upon  her,  "  yet  I  shall  not  be  wholly 
miserable  if  my  father  lives  and  was  not  in  the  extremity 
they  told  me  of !  " 

"  If  that  thought  gives  you  comfort,  retain  it,"  returned 
the  woman.  "  The  whole  story  of  the  earl's  illness  was  an 
invention  to  bring  you  at  so  short  notice  from  the  protection 
of  the  prior." 

"  I  thank  Thee,  gracious  Providence,  for  this  comfort !  " 
exclaimed  Helen.  "  It  inspires  me  with  redoubled  trust  in 
Thee." 

Margery  shook  her  head.  "Ah,  poor  victim,"  thought 
she,  "  how  vain  is  thy  devotion  !  "  But  she  had  not  time  to 
say  so,  for  her  husband  and  the  deserter  from  Cressingham 
re-entered  the  cave.  Helen,  afraid  that  it  was  Soulis, 
started  up.     The  stranger  made    a   motion  to  lift   her  in 


THE  PEN  TLA  ND  HILLS.  12/ 

his  arms ;  she  struggled,  and  in  the  violence  of  her  action 
struck  his  beaver.  It  opened,  and  discovered  a  pale  and 
stern  countenance,  with  a  large  scar  across  his  jaw.  This 
mark  of  contest,  and  the  gloomy  scowl  of  his  eyes,  made 
Helen  rush  towards  the  woman  for  protection.  The  man 
hastily  closed  his  helmet,  and  speaking  through  the  closed 
steel,  for  the  first  time  she  heard  his  voice,  which  sounded 
hollow  and  derisive ;  he  bade  her  prepare  to  accompany 
Lord  Soulis  in  a  journey  to  the  south. 

Helen  looked  at  her  shackled  arms,  and  despairing  of 
effecting  her  escape  by  any  effort  of  her  own,  she  thought 
that  gaining  time  was  some  advantage ;  and  allowing  the 
man  to  take  her  hand,  while  Macgregor  supported  her  on 
the  other  side,  they  led  her  out  of  the  cave.  She  observed 
the  latter  smile  and  wink  at  his  wife.  "  Oh,  I  am  cajoled 
again  !  "  cried  she.  "  To  what  am  I  to  be  betrayed  ?  Un- 
hand me  !  leave  me  !  "  Almost  fainting  with  dread,  she 
leaned  against  the  arm  of  the  stranger. 

Thunder  now  pealed  over  her  head,  and  lightning  shot 
across  the  mountains.  She  looked  up.  "  Oh,"  cried  she, 
in  a  voice  of  deep  horror,  "  is  there  no  bolt  for  me  !  "  At 
that  moment  Soulis,  mounted  on  his  steed,  approached,  and 
ordered  her  to  be  put  into  the  litter.  Incapable  of  contend- 
ing with  the  numbers  which  surrounded  her,  she  allowed 
them  to  execute  their  master's  commands.  Macgregor's 
wife  was  set  on  a  pillion  behind  him ;  and  Soulis  giving  the 
word,  they  all  marched  on  at  a  rapid  pace.  In  a  few  hours 
they  cleared  the  shady  valleys  of  the  Clyde,  and  entered  on 
the  barren  tracts  of  the  Leadhill  moors. 

A  dismal  hue  overspread  the  country ;  the  thunder  yet 
roared  in  distant  peals,  and  the  lightning  came  down  in 
such  vast  sheets  that  the  carriers  were  often  obliged  to  set 
down  their  burden,  and  cover  their  eyes  to  recover  their 
sight.  A  shrill  wind  pierced  the  slight  covering  of  the  litter, 
and  blowing  it  aside  at  intervals  discovered  the  rough  out- 
lines of  the  distant  hills  visible  through  the  mist,  or  the 
gleaming  of  some  wandering  water  as  it  glided  over  the 
cheerless  waste. 

"All  is  desolation,  like  myself!"  thought  Helen;  but 
neither  the  cold  wind  nor  the  rain  which  was  now  drifting 
into  her  vehicle  occasioned  her  any  sensation.     It  is  only 


128  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

when  the  mind  is  at  ease  that  the  body  is  delicate ;  all 
within  was  too  expectant  of  mental  horrors  to  notice  the 
casual  inconveniencies  of  season  or  situation. 

The  cavalcade  with  difficulty  mounted  the  steeps  of  a 
stupendous  mountain,  where  the  storm  raged  so  turbulently 
that  the  men  who  carried  the  litter  stopped,  and  told  their 
lord  it  would  be  impossible  to  proceed  in  the  approaching 
darkness.  They  conjured  him  to  look  at  the  perpendicular 
rocks,  rendered  indeterminate  by  the  gathering  mist,  to 
feel  the  overwhelming  gusts  of  the  tempest,  and  then  judge 
whether  they  dare  venture  with  the  litter  on  so  dangerous  a 
pathway,  made  slippery  by  descending  rain. 

To  halt  in  such  a  spot  seemed  to  Soulis  as  perilous  as 
to  proceed.  "  We  shall  not  be  better  off,"  answered  he, 
"  should  we  attempt  to  return  ;  precipices  lie  on  either  side. 
And  to  stand  still  would  be  equally  perilous ;  the  torrents 
from  the  heights  increase  so  rapidly,  there  is  every  chance 
of  our  being  swept  away  should  we  remain  exposed  to  their 
stream." 

Helen  looked  at  these  sublime  cascades  with  a  calm  wel- 
come, as  they  poured  from  the  hills  and  flung  their  spray 
upon  the  roof  of  her  vehicle.  She  hailed  her  release  in  the 
death  they  menaced ;  and  far  from  being  intimidated  at 
the  prospect,  cast  a  resigned  and  even  wistful  glance  into 
the  swelling  lake  beneath,  under  whose  waves  she  expected 
soon  to  sleep. 

On  the  remonstrance  of  their  master  the  men  resumed 
their  pace,  and  after  hard  contention  with  the  storm  they 
gained  the  summit  of  the  west  side  of  the  mountain,  and 
were  descending  its  eastern  brow  when  the  shades  of  night 
closed  in  upon  them.  Looking  down  into  the  black  chaos, 
on  the  brink  of  which  they  must  pass  along,  they  once 
more  protested  they  could  not  advance  a  foot  until  the 
dawn  should  give  them  some  security. 

At  this  declaration,  which  Soulis  saw  could  not  now  be 
disputed,  he  ordered  the  troop  to  halt  under  the  shelter  of 
a  projecting  rock.  Its  huge  arch  overhung  the  ledge  that 
formed  the  road,  while  a  deep  gulf  at  his  feet,  by  the  roar- 
ing of  waters,  proclaimed  the  receptacle  of  those  cataracts 
which  rush  tremendous  from  the  ever-streaming  Pentland 
hills. 


THE  PENTLAXD  HILLS.  1 29 

Soulis  dismounted.  The  men  set  down  the  litter,  and 
removed  to  a  distance  as  he  approached.  He  opened  one 
of  the  curtains,  and  throwing  himself  beside  the  exhausted 
but  watchful  Helen,  clasped  his  arms  roughly  about  her, 
and  exclaimed :  "  Sweet  minion,  I  must  pillow  on  your 
bosom  till  the  morn  awakes !  "  His  brutal  lips  were  again 
riveted  to  her  cheek.  Ten  thousand  strengths  seemed  then 
to  heave  him  from  her  heart ;  struggling  with  a  power  that 
amazed  even  herself,  she  threw  him  from  her,  and  holding 
him  off  with  her  shackled  arms,  her  shrieks  again  pierced 
the  heavens. 

"  Scream  thy  soul  away,  poor  fool !  "  exclaimed  Soulis, 
seizing  her  iiercely  in  his  arms,  "for  thou  art  now  so  surely 
mine  that  Heaven  itself  cannot  preserve  thee." 

At  that  moment  her  couch  was  shaken  by  a  sudden 
shock,  and  in  the  next  she  was  covered  with  the  blood  of 
Soulis.  A  stroke  from  an  unseen  arm  had  wounded  him, 
and  starting  on  his  feet,  a  fearful  battle  of  swords  took 
place  over  the  prostrate  Helen. 

Two  men  out  of  the  numbers  who  hastened  to  the  assis- 
tance of  their  master  fell  dead  on  her  body;  and  the 
chieftain  himself,  covered  with  wounds,  and  breathing  re- 
venge and  blasphemy,  was  forced  off  by  the  survivors. 
"Where  do  you  carry  me,  villains?"  cried  he.  "  Separate 
me  not  from  the  vengeance  I  will  yet  hurl  on  that  demon 
who  has  robbed  me  of  my  victim,  or  ye  shall  die  a  death 
more  horrible  than  hell  can  inflict !  "  He  raved,  but  more 
unheeded  than  the  tempest;  terrilied  that  the  spirits  of 
darkness  were  indeed  their  pursuers,  in  spite  of  his  reiter- 
ated threats  the  men  carried  him  to  a  distant  hollow  in  the 
rock,  and  laid  him  down,  now  insensible  from  loss  of  blood. 
One  or  two  of  the  most  desperate  returned  to  see  what  was 
become  of  Lady  Helen,  well  aware  that  if  they  could  regain 
her  their  master  would  be  satisfied ;  but,  on  the  reverse, 
should  she  be  lost,  the  whole  troop  knew  their  fate  would 
be  some  merciless  punishment. 

Macgregor  and  the  deserter  of  Cressingham  were  the 
first  who  reached  the  spot  where  the  lady  had  been  left, 
and  witli  horror  they  found  the  litter,  but  not  herself.  She 
was  gone ;  but  whether  she  had  been  carried  off  by  the 
mysterious  arm  which  had  felled  their  lord,  or  she  had 
VOL.   I. — 9 


I30  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

thrown  herself  into  the  foaming  gulf  beneath,  they  could 
not  determine.  They  decided,  however,  tlie  latter  should 
be  their  report  to  Soulis,  knowing  he  would  rather  believe 
the  object  of  his  passions  had  perished  than  that  she  had 
escaped  his  toils. 

Almost  stupefied  with  consternation,  they  returned  to  re- 
peat this  tale  to  their  furious  lord,  who,  on  having  his 
wounds  stanched,  had  recovered  from  his  swoon.  On 
hearing  that  the  beautiful  creature  he  had  so  lately  believed 
his  own  beyond  the  power  of  fate,  that  his  property,  as  he 
called  her,  the  devoted  slave  of  his  will,  the  mistress  of  his 
destiny,  was  lost  to  him  forever,  swallowed  up  in  the  whelm- 
ing wave,  —  he  became  frantic.  There  was  desperation  in 
every  word.  He  raved,  tore  up  the  earth  like  a  wild  beast, 
and  foaming  at  the  mouth  dashed  the  wife  of  Macgregor 
from  him  as  she  approached  with  a  fresh  balsam  for 
his  wounds.  "  Off,  scum  of  a  damned  sex ! "  cried  he. 
"  Where  is  she  whom  I  intrusted  to  thy  care  ? " 

"  My  lord,"  answered  the  affrighted  woman,  "  you  know 
best.  You  terrified  the  poor  young  creature.  You  forced 
yourself  into  her  litter,  and  can  you  wonder  —  " 

"  That  I  should  force  you  to  perdition,  execrable  witch," 
cried  he,  "that  knew  no  better  how  to  prepare  a  slave  to 
receive  her  lord  !  "  As  he  spoke  he  struck  her  again ;  but 
it  was  with  his  gauntleted  hand,  and  the  eyes  of  the  un- 
fortunate woman  opened  no  more.  The  blow  fell  on  her 
temple,  and  a  motionless  corpse  lay  before  him. 

"  My  wife  !  "  cried  the  poor  Macgregor,  putting  his  trem- 
bling arms  about  her  neck.  "  Oh,  my  lord,  how  have  I 
deserv'ed  this  ?     You  have  slain  her !  " 

"  Suppose  I  have ! "  returned  the  chieftain  with  a  cold 
scorn.  "  She  was  old  and  ugly ;  and  could  you  recover 
Helen,  you  should  cull  Hermitage  for  a  substitute  for  this 
prating  beldam." 

Macgregor  made  no  reply,  but  feeling  in  his  heart  that 
he  who  sows  the  wind  will  reap  the  whirlwind,  and  that 
such  were  the  rewards  of  villany  to  its  vile  instruments,  he 
could  not  but  say  to  himself,  "  I  have  deserved  it  of  my 
God,  but  not  of  thee ! "  and  sobbing  over  the  remains  of 
his  equally  criminal  wife,  by  the  assistance  of  his  comrades 
he  removed  her  from  the  now  hated  presence  of  his  lord. 


THE  HUT.  131 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

THE   HUT. 

MEANWHILE,  the  Lady  Helen,  hardly  rational  from 
the  horror  and  hope  that  agitated  her,  had  extricated 
herself  from  the  dead  bodies,  and  in  her  eagerness  to  escape 
would  certainly  have  fallen  over  the  precipice  had  not  the 
same  gallant  arm  which  had  covered  her  persecutor  with 
wounds  caught  her  as  she  sprang  from  the  litter.  "  Fear 
not,  madam,"  exclaimed  a  gentle  voice;  "you  are  under 
the  protection  of  a  Scottish  knight." 

There  was  a  kindness  in  the  sound  that  seemed  to  pro- 
claim the  speaker  to  be  of  her  own  kindred.  She  felt  as  if 
suddenly  rescued  by  a  brother ;  and  dropping  her  head  on 
his  bosom,  a  shower  of  grateful  tears  relieved  her  heart 
and  prevented  her  fainting.  Aware  that  no  time  was  to  be 
lost,  that  the  enemy  might  soon  be  on  him  again,  he  clasped 
her  in  his  arms,  and  with  the  activity  of  a  mountain  deer 
crossed  two  rushing  streams,  leaping  from  rock  to  rock 
even  under  the  foam  of  their  flood ;  and  then  treading  with 
a  light  and  steady  step  an  alpine  bridge  of  one  single  tree 
which  arched  the  cataract  below,  he  reached  the  opposite 
side,  and  spreading  his  plaid  upon  the  rock,  laid  the  trem- 
bling Helen  upon  it.  He  again  conjured  her  to  confide  in 
him ;  and  calling  to  his  men  severally  by  their  names,  in  a 
moment  he  was  surrounded  by  a  number,  whose  rough 
gratulations  might  have  re-awakened  the  alarm  of  Helen 
had  she  not  still  heard  his  voice.  There  was  graciousness 
and  balm-distilling  sweetness  in  every  tone,  and  she  listened 
in  calm  expectation. 

He  directed  the  men  to  take  their  axes  and  cut  away  on 
their  side  of  the  fall  the  tree  which  arched  it.  It  was  prob- 
able the  villain  he  had  just  assailed,  or  his  followers,  might 
pursue  him;  and  he  thought  it  prudent  to  demolish  the 
bridge. 

The  men  obeyed,  and  the  warrior  returned  to  his  fair 
charge.    It  was  raining  fast ;  and  fearful  of  further  exposing 


132  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

her  to  the  inclemencies  of  the  night,  he  proposed  leading 
her  to  shelter.  "  There  is  a  hermit's  cell  on  the  northern 
side  of  this  mountain,  —  I  will  conduct  you  thither  in  the 
morning,  as  to  the  securest  asylum ;  but  meanwhile  we 
must  seek  a  nearer  shelter." 

"  Anywhere,  sir,  with  honor  my  guide,"  answered  Helen, 
timidly. 

"  You  are  as  safe  with  me,  lady,"  returned  he,  "  as  in  the 
arms  of  the  Virgin.  I  am  a  man  who  can  now  have  no 
joy  in  womankind  but  when  as  a  brother  I  protect  them. 
Whoever  you  are,  confide  in  me,  and  you  shall  not  be 
betrayed." 

Helen  confidently  gave  him  her  hand,  and  strove  to  rise ; 
but  at  the  first  attempt  the  shackles  pierced  her  ankles, 
and  she  sunk  again  to  the  ground.  The  cold  iron  on  her 
wrists  touched  the  hand  of  her  preserver.  He  now  recol- 
lected his  surprise  on  hearing  the  clank  of  chains  as  he 
carried  her  over  the  bridge.  "  Who,"  inquired  he,  "  could 
do  this  unmanly  deed  ?  " 

"  The  wretch  from  whom  you  rescued  me,  to  prevent  my 
escape  from  a  captivity  worse  than  death." 

While  she  spoke,  he  wrenched  open  the  manacles  on  her 
wrists  and  ankles,  and  threw  them  over  the  precipice.  As 
she  heard  them  dash  into  the  torrent,  an  unutterable  grati- 
tude filled  her  heart ;  and  again  giving  her  hand  to  him  to 
lead  her  forward,  she  said  with  earnestness,  "  Oh,  sir,  if  you 
have  wife  or  sister,  should  they  ever  fall  into  the  like  peril 
with  mine, — for  in  these  terrific  times  who  is  secure?  — 
may  Heaven  reward  your  bravery  by  sending  them  such  a 
preserver  !  " 

The  stranger  sighed  deeply.  "  Sweet  lady,"  returned  he, 
"  I  have  no  wife,  no  sister.  But  my  kindred  is  nevertheless 
very  numerous,  and  I  thank  thee  for  thy  prayer."  The 
hero  sighed  profoundly  again,  and  led  her  silently  down 
the  windings  of  the  declivity.  Having  proceeded  with 
caution,  they  descended  into  a  little  wooded  dell,  and  ap- 
proached the  half-standing  remains  of  what  had  once  been 
a  shepherd's  hut. 

"This,"  said  the  knight,  as  they  entered,  "was  the  habi- 
tation of  a  good  old  man  who  fed  his  flock  on  these  moun- 
tains;   but  a  band  of  Southron  soldiers  forced  his  only 


THE  HUT.  133 

daughter  from  him,  and  plundering  his  little  abode,  drove 
him  out  upon  the  waste.  He  perished  the  same  night  with 
grief  and  the  inclemencies  of  tlie  weather.  His  son,  a 
brave  youth,  was  left  for  dead  by  his  sister's  ravishers ;  but 
I  found  him  in  this  dreaiy  solitude,  and  he  told  me  the  too 
general  story  of  his  wounds  and  his  despair.  Indeed,  lady, 
when  I  heard  your  shrieks  from  the  opposite  side  of  the 
chasm,  I  thought  they  might  proceed  from  this  poor  boy's 
sister,  and  I  flew  to  restore  them  to  each  other." 

Helen  shuddered  as  he  related  a  tale  so  nearly  resembling 
her  own ;  and  trembling  with  weakness,  and  with  horror  of 
what  might  have  been  her  fate  had  she  not  been  rescued 
by  this  gallant  stranger,  she  sank  fainting  upon  the  turf. 
The  chief  still  held  her  hand,  and  alarmed  for  her  state, 
called  to  his  men  to  seek  fuel  to  make  a  fire.  While  his 
messengers  were  exploring  the  crannies  of  the  rocks  for 
dried  leaves  and  sticks,  Helen,  totally  exhausted,  leaned 
almost  motionless  against  the  wall  of  the  hut.  Finding  by 
her  shortening  breath  that  she  was  fainting,  the  knight 
took  her  in  his  arms,  and  supporting  her  on  his  breast 
chafed  her  cold  hands  and  forehead.  His  efforts  were 
vain.  She  seemed  to  have  ceased  to  breathe ;  hardly  a 
pulse  moved  her  heart.  Alarmed  at  such  signs  of  death, 
he  spoke  to  the  man  who  remained  in  the  outward  chamber. 

The  man  answered  his  master's  inquiry  by  putting  a 
flask  into  his  hand.  The  knight  poured  some  of  its  con- 
tents into  her  mouth.  Her  streaming  locks  touched  his 
cheek.  "  Poor  lady,"  said  he,  "  she  will  perish  in  these  for- 
lorn regions,  where  neither  warmth  nor  nourishment  can  be 
found ! " 

To  his  glad  welcome  several  of  his  men  soon  after  entered 
with  a  quantity  of  withered  boughs  which  they  had  found 
in  the  fissures  of  the  rock  at  some  distance.  With  these  a 
fire  was  speedily  kindled ;  and  its  blaze  diffusing  comfort 
through  the  chamber,  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  hearing  a 
sigh  from  the  breast  of  his  charge.  Her  head  still  leaned 
on  his  bosom  when  she  opened  her  eyes.  The  light  shone 
full  on  her  face. 

"Lady,"  said  he,  "are  you  revived?"  Her  delicacy 
started  at  the  situation  in  which  she  found  herself,  and 
raising  herself,  though  feebly,  she  thanked  him,  and  re- 


134  "^HE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

quested  a  little  water.  It  was  given  to  her.  She  drank 
some ;  and  looking  up,  would  have  met  the  fixed  and  com- 
passionate gaze  of  the  knight,  had  not  weakness  cast  such 
a  film  before  her  eyes  that  she  scarcely  saw  anything.  Be- 
ing still  languid,  she  leaned  her  head  on  the  turf  seat.  Her 
face  was  pale  as  marble,  and  her  long  hair,  saturated 
with  wet,  by  its  darkness  made  her  look  of  a  more  deadly 
hue. 

"  Death  !  how  lovely  canst  thou  be  !  "  sighed  the  knight 
to  himself,  — he  even  groaned.  Helen  started,  and  looked 
around  her  with  alarm.  "  Fear  not,"  said  he.  "  I  only 
dreaded  your  pale  looks ;  but  you  revive,  and  will  yet  bless 
all  that  are  dear  to  you.  Suffer  me,  sweet  lady,  to  drain  the 
wet  from  these  tresses."  He  took  hold  of  them  as  he  spoke. 
She  saw  the  water  running  from  her  hair  over  his  hands, 
and  allowing  him  to  wring  out  the  rain,  he  continued  wiping 
her  glossy  locks  with  his  scarf,  till,  exhausted  by  fatigue, 
she  gradually  sank  into  a  profound  sleep. 

Dawn  had  penetrated  the  ruined  walls  of  the  hut  before 
Lady  Helen  awoke.  But  when  she  did,  she  was  refreshed; 
and  opening  her  eyes,  —  hardly  conscious  where  she  was, 
or  whether  all  that  floated  in  her  memory  were  not  the 
departing  vapors  of  a  frightful  dream,  —  she  started,  and 
fixed  them  upon  the  figure  of  the  knight,  who  was  seated 
near  her.  His  noble  air  and  the  pensive  expression  of  his 
fine  features  struck  like  a  spell  upon  her  gathering  recollec- 
tions; she  at  once  remembered  all  she  had  suffered,  all 
that  she  owed  to  him.  She  moved.  Her  preserver  turned 
his  eyes  towards  her ;  seeing  she  was  awake,  he  rose  from 
the  side  of  the  dying  embers  he  had  sedulously  kept  alive 
during  her  slumber,  and  expressed  his  hopes  that  she  felt 
revived.  She  returned  him  a  grateful  reply  in  the  afiirma- 
tive  ;  and  he  quitted  her  to  rouse  his  men  for  their  journey 
to  the  hermit's  cell. 

When  he  re-entered,  he  found  Helen  braiding  up  the  fine 
hair  which  had  so  lately  been  scattered  by  the  rudeness  of 
man  and  the  elements.  She  would  have  risen  at  his  ap- 
proach, but  he  seated  himself  on  a  stone  at  her  feet.  "  We 
shall  be  detained  here  a  few  minutes  longer,"  said  he.  "  I 
have  ordered  my  men  to  make  a  litter  of  crossed  branches, 
to  bear  you  on  their  shoulders.     Your  delicate  limbs  would 


THE  HUT.  135 

not  be  equal  to  the  toil  of  descending  these  heights  to  the 
glen  of  stones.  The  venerable  man  who  inhabits  there  will 
protect  you  until  he  can  summon  your  family  or  friends  to 
receive  his  charge." 

At  these  words,  which  Helen  thought  were  meant  to 
reprove  her  for  not  having  revealed  herself,  she  blushed ; 
but  fearful  of  breathing  a  name  under  the  interdict  of  the 
English  governors,  and  which  had  already  spread  devasta- 
tion over  all  with  whom  it  had  been  connected,  —  fearful 
of  involving  her  preserver's  safety  by  making  him  aware  of 
the  persecuted  creature  he  had  rescued,  —  she  paused  for  a 
moment,  and  then  with  the  color  heightening  on  her  cheeks, 
replied  :  "  For  your  humanity,  brave  sir,  shown  this  night  to 
a  friendless  woman,  I  must  be  ever  grateful ;  but  not  even 
to  the  hermit  can  I  reveal  my  name.  It  is  fraught  with 
danger  to  every  honest  Scot  who  should  know  that  he  pro- 
tects one  who  bears  it ;  and  therefore,  least  of  all,  noble 
stranger,  would  I  breathe  it  to  you."  She  averted  her  face 
to  conceal  the  emotions  she  could  not  subdue. 

The  knight  looked  at  her  intensely,  and  profoundly 
sighed.  Half  her  unbraided  locks  lay  upon  her  bosom, 
which  now  heaved  with  suppressed  feelings;  and  the  fast 
falling  tears  gliding  through  her  long  eyelashes  dropped 
upon  his  hand.  He  started,  and  tore  his  eyes  from  her 
countenance.  "  I  ask  not,  madam,  to  know  what  you 
think  proper  to  conceal.  But  danger  has  no  alarms  for  me 
when,  by  incurring  it,  I  serve  those  who  need  a  protector." 

A  sudden  thought  flashed  across  her  mind  :  might  it  not 
be  possible  that  this  tender  guardian  of  her  safety,  this 
heroic  profferer  of  service,  was  the  noble  Wallace.?  But 
the  vain  idea  fled.  He  was  pent  up  amidst  the  beleaguered 
defiles  of  Cartlane  craigs,  sworn  to  extricate  the  helpless 
families  of  his  followers  or  to  perish  with  them.  This 
knight  was  accompanied  by  none  but  men,  and  his  kind 
eyes  shone  in  too  serene  a  lustre  to  be  the  mirrors  of  the 
disturbed  soul  of  the  suffering  chief  of  EllersHe.  "Ah, 
then,"  murmured  she  to  herself,  "  are  there  two  men  in 
Scotland  who  will  speak  thus?"  She  looked  up  in  his 
face.  The  plumes  of  his  bonnet  shaded  his  features ;  but 
she  saw  they  were  paler  than  on  his  entrance,  and  a 
strange  expression  of  distraction  agitated  their  before  com- 


136  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

posed  lines.      His   eyes  were  bent  to  the  ground  as  he 
proceeded :  — 

"  I  am  the  servant  of  my  fellow-creatures.  Command 
me  and  my  few  faithful  followers ;  and  if  it  be  in  the  power 
of  such  small  means  to  succor  you  or  yours,  I  am  ready 
to  answer  for  their  obedience.  If  the  villain  from  whom  I 
had  the  happiness  to  release  you  be  yet  more  deeply  impli- 
cated in  your  sorrows,  tell  me  how  they  can  be  relieved, 
and  I  will  attempt  it.  I  shall  make  no  new  enemies  by  the 
deed,  for  the  Southrons  and  I  are  at  eternal  enmity." 

Helen  could  not  withdraw  her  eyes  from  his  varying 
countenance,  which  from  underneath  his  dark  plumes 
seemed,  like  a  portentous  cloud,  at  intervals  to  emit  the 
rays  of  the  cheering  sun,  or  the  lightning  of  threatening 
thunder.  "  Alas  !  "  replied  she,  "  ill  should  I  repay  such 
nobleness  were  I  to  involve  it  in  the  calamities  of  my 
house.  No,  generous  stranger,  I  must  remain  unknown. 
Leave  me  with  the  hermit,  and  from  his  cell  I  will  send  to 
some  relation  to  take  me  thence." 

"  I  urge  you  no  more,  gentle  lady,"  replied  the  knight, 
rising.  "Were  I  at  the  head  of  an  army,  instead  of  a 
handful  of  men,  I  might  then  have  a  better  argument  for 
offering  my  services ;  but  as  it  is,  I  feel  my  weakness  and 
seek  to  know  no  further." 

Helen  trembled  with  unaccountable  emotion :  "  Were  you 
at  the  head  of  an  army,  I  might  then  dare  to  reveal  the 
full  weight  of  my  anxieties;  but  Heaven  has  already  been 
sufficiently  gracious  to  me  by  your  hands,  in  redeeming  me 
from  my  crudest  enemy ;  and  for  the  rest,  I  put  my  trust 
in  the  same  overruling  Providence." 

At  this  moment  a  man  entered  and  told  the  knight  the 
vehicle  was  finished,  the  morning  fine,  and  his  men  ready 
to  march.  He  turned  towards  Helen:  "May  I  conduct 
you  to  the  rude  carriage  we  have  prepared?" 

Helen  gathered  her  mantle  about  her;  and  the  knight 
throwing  his  scarf  over  her  head,  as  it  had  no  otlier  covering, 
she  gave  him  her  hand,  and  he  led  her  out  of  the  hut  to 
the  side  of  the  bier.  It  was  overlaid  with  the  men's  plaids. 
The  knight  placed  her  on  it ;  and  the  carriers  raising  it  on 
their  shoulders,  her  deliverer  led  the  way,  and  they  took 
their  course  down  the  mountain. 


THE   GLEN  OF  STOiVES.  1 37 


CHAPTER   XV. 

THE   GLEN   OF    STONES. 

THEY  proceeded  in  silence  through  the  curvings  of  the 
dell,  till  it  opened  into  a  hazardous  path  along  the 
top  of  a  far-extending  cliff  which  overhung  and  clasped  in 
the  western  side  of  a  deep  loch.  As  they  mounted  the 
pending  wall  of  this  immense  amphitheatre,  Helen  watched 
the  sublime  uprise  of  the  king  of  light  issuing  from  behind 
the  opposite  citadel  of  rocks,  and  borne  aloft  on  a  throne  of 
clouds  that  swam  in  floating  gold.  The  herbage  on  the 
cliffs  glittered  with  liquid  emeralds  as  his  beams  kissed  their 
summits,  and  the  lake  beneath  sparkled  like  a  sea  of  molten 
diamonds.  All  Nature  seemed  to  rejoice  at  the  presence 
of  this  magnificent  emblem  of  the  Most  High.  Helen's 
heart  swelled  with  devotion,  and  its  sacred  voice  breathed 
from  her  lips. 

"  Such,"  thought  she,  "  O  Sun,  art  thou,  —  the  resplen- 
dent image  of  the  Giver  of  all  Good.  Thy  cheering  beams, 
like  his  all-cheering  spirit,  pervade  the  soul,  and  drive 
thence  the  despondency  of  cold  and  darkness.  But  bright 
as  thou  art,  how  does  the  similitude  fade  before  god-like 
man,  the  true  image  of  his  Maker!  How  far  do  his  pro- 
tecting arms  extend  over  the  desolate  !  How  mighty  is 
the  power  of  his  benevolence  to  dispense  succor  and  to 
administer  consolation  !  " 

As  she  thus  mused,  her  eyes  fell  on  the  noble  mien  of 
the  knight,  who  with  his  spear  in  his  hand,  and  wrapped 
in  his  dark  mantle  of  mingled  greens,  led  the  way  with  a 
graceful  but  rapid  step  along  the  shelving  declivity.  Turn- 
ing suddenly  to  the  left,  he  struck  into  a  defile  between  two 
prodigious  craggy  mountains,  whose  brown  cheeks,  trick- 
ling with  ten  thousand  rills,  seemed  to  weep  over  the  deep 
gloom  of  the  valley  beneath.  Scattered  fragments  of  rock 
from  the  cliffs  above  covered  with  their  huge  and  almost 
impassable  masses  the  surface  of  the  ground.  Not  an  herb 
was  to  be  seen ;  all  was  black,  barren,  and  terrific.     On 


138  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

entering  this  horrid  pass,  Helen  would  have  shuddered  had 
she  not  placed  implicit  confidence  in  her  conductor. 

As  they  advanced,  the  vale  gradually  narrowed,  and  at 
last  shut  them  within  an  immense  chasm,  which  seemed 
to  have  been  cleft  at  its  towering  summit  to  admit  a  few 
beams  of  light  to  the  desert  below.  A  dark  river  flowed 
along,  amid  which  the  bases  of  the  mountains  showed  their 
union  by  the  mingling  of  many  a  rugged  cliff  projecting 
upwards  in  a  variety  of  strange  and  hideous  forms.  The 
men  who  carried  Helen  found  with  some  difficulty  a  safe 
footing.  However,  after  frequent  rests  and  unremitted 
caution,  they  at  last  extricated  themselves  from  the  most 
intricate  path,  and  more  lightly  followed  their  chief  into  a 
less  gloomy  part  of  this  chaos  of  Nature.  The  knight 
stopped,  and  approaching  the  bier  told  Helen  they  had 
arrived  at  the  end  of  their  journey. 

"In  the  heart  of  that  cliff,"  said  he,  " is  the  hermit's  cell, 
—  a  desolate  shelter,  but  a  safe  one.  Old  age  and  poverty 
hold  no  temptations  to  the  enemies  of  Scotland." 

As  he  spoke,  the  venerable  man,  who  had  heard  voices 
beneath,  appeared  on  the  rock ;  and  while  his  tall  and 
majestic  figure  clad  in  gray  moved  forward,  and  his  silver 
beard  flowed  from  his  saintly  countenance  upon  the  air,  he 
seemed  the  bard  of  Morven,  issuing  from  his  cave  of  shells 
to  bid  a  hero's  welcome  to  the  young  and  warlike  Oscar. 

"  Bless  thee,  my  son,"  cried  he,  as  he  descended ;  "  what 
good  or  evil  accident  hath  returned  thee  so  soon  to  these 
solitudes  ?  " 

The  knight  briefly  related  the  circumstances  of  Helen's 
rescue,  and  said  he  had  brought  her  to  share  his  asylum. 

The  hermit  took  her  by  the  hand,  and  graciously  prom- 
ised her  every  service  in  his  power.  He  then  preceded  the 
knight,  whose  firmer  arm  supported  her  up  the  rock  to  the 
outer  apartment  of  the  cell. 

A  sacred  awe  struck  her  as  she  entered  this  place,  dedi- 
cated wholly  to  God.  She  bowed  and  crossed  herself.  The 
hermit  observing  her  devotion,  blessed  her,  and  bade  her 
welcome  to  the  abode  of  peace. 

"  Here,  daughter,"  said  he,  "  has  one  son  of  persecuted 
Scotland  found  a  refuge.  There  is  nought  alluring  in 
these  wilds  to  attract  the  spoiler.     The  green  herb  is  all 


THE   GLEN  OF  STONES.  1 39 

the  food  they  afford,  and  the  limpid  water  their  best 
beverage." 

"Ah  !"  returned  Helen,  with  grateful  animation,  "would 
to  Heaven  that  all  who  love  the  freedom  of  Scotland  were 
now  within  this  glen  !  The  herb  and  the  stream  would  be 
luxuries  when  tasted  in  liberty  and  hope.  My  father,  his 
friend,  — "  she  stopped,  recollecting  that  she  had  almost 
betrayed  the  secrecy  she  meant  to  maintain,  and  looking 
down,  remained  in  confused  silence.  The  knight  gazed  at 
her,  and  much  wished  to  penetrate  what  she  concealed, 
but  delicacy  forbade  him  to  urge  her  again.  He  spoke 
not,  but  the  hermit,  ignorant  of  her  reluctance  to  reveal  her 
family,  resumed :  — 

"  I  do  not  wonder,  gentle  lady,  that  you  speak  in  terms 
which  tell  me  that  even  your  tender  sex  feels  the  tyranny 
of  Edward.  Who  in  Scotland  is  exempt  ?  The  whole 
country  groans  beneath  his  oppressions,  and  the  cruelty  of 
his  agents  makes  its  rivulets  run  with  blood.  Six  months 
ago  I  was  abbot  of  Scone.  Because  I  refused  to  betray 
my  trust  and  resign  the  archives  of  the  kingdom  which 
were  lodged  there,  Edward  —  the  rebel  anointed  of  the 
Lord,  the  profaner  of  the  sanctuary  —  sent  his  emissaries 
to  sack  the  convent,  to  tear  the  holy  pillar  of  Jacob  from 
its  shrine,  and  to  wrest  from  my  grasp  the  records  I  refused 
to  deliver.  All  was  done  as  the  usurper  commanded.  Most 
of  my  brethren  were  slain.  Myself  and  the  remainder  were 
turned  out  upon  the  waste.  We  retired  to  the  monastery  of 
Cambus-Kenneth ;  but  there  oppression  found  us.  Cressing- 
ham,  having  seized  on  other  religious  houses,  determined 
to  swell  his  hoards  with  the  plunder  of  this  also.  In  the 
dead  of  night  the  attack  was  made.  My  brethren  fled.  I 
knew  not  whither  to  go ;  but  determined  to  fly  far  from  the 
tracks  of  our  ravagers,  I  took  my  course  over  the  hills,  and 
finding  the  valley  of  stones  fit  for  my  purpose,  have  for  two 
months  lived  alone  in  this  wilderness." 

"  Unhappy  Scotland  !  "  ejaculated  Helen.  Her  eyes 
had  followed  the  chief,  who  during  this  narrative  leaned 
thoughtfully  against  the  entrance  of  the  cave.  His  eyes 
were  cast  upwards  with  an  expression  that  made  her  heart 
vibrate  with  the  exclamation  which  had  just  escaped  her. 

The  knight  turned,  and    approached  her.      "You  hear 


I40  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

from  the  lips  of  my  venerable  friend,"  said  he,  "  a  direful 
story.  Happy,  then,  am  I,  gentle  lady,  that  you  and  he 
have  found  a  refuge,  though  a  rough  one.  I  must  now 
tear  myself  from  this  tranquillity,  to  seek  scenes  more  befit- 
ting a  younger  son  of  the  country  he  deplores." 

Helen  felt  unable  to  answer.  But  the  abbot  spoke, 
"  And  am  I  not  to  see  you  again  ?  " 

"That  is  as  Heaven  wills,"  replied  the  chief;  "but  as  it 
is  unlikely  on  this  side  the  grave,  my  best  pledge  of  friend- 
ship is  this  lady.  To  you  she  may  reveal  what  she  has 
withheld  from  me  ;  but  in  either  case  she  is  secure  in  your 
goodness." 

"  Rely  on  my  faith,  my  son ;  and  may  the  Almighty's 
shield  hang  on  your  steps  !  " 

The  knight  turned  to  Helen.  "  Farewell,  sweet  lady  !  " 
said  he.  She  trembled  at  the  words,  and  hardly  conscious 
of  what  she  did,  held  out  her  hand  to  him.  He  took  it, 
and  drew  it  towards  his  lips,  but  checking  himself,  he  only 
pressed  it;  and  in  a  mournful  voice  added,  "In  your 
prayers,  sometimes  remember  the  most  desolate  of  men  !  " 

A  mist  seemed  to  pass  over  the  eyes  of  Lady  Helen. 
She  felt  as  if  on  the  point  of  losing  something  most  pre- 
cious to  her :  "  My  prayers  for  my  own  preserver  and  for 
my  father's,"  cried  she  in  an  agitated  voice,  "  shall  ever  be 
mingled.  And  if  ever  it  be  safe  to  remember  me,  —  should 
Heaven  indeed  '  arm  the  patriot's  hand,'  then  my  father 
may  be  proud  to  know  and  to  thank  the  brave  deliverer  of 
his  child." 

The  knight  paused,  and  looked  with  animation  upon 
her.  "  Then  your  father  is  in  arms,  and  against  the  tyrant  ? 
Tell  me  where ;  and  you  see  before  you  a  man  who  is  ready 
to  join  him,  and  to  lay  down  his  life  in  the  just  cause  ! " 

At  this  vehement  declaration  Lady  Helen's  full  heart 
overflowed,  and  she  burst  into  tears. 

The  knight  drew  towards  her,  and  in  a  moderated  voice 
continued  :  "  My  men,  though  few,  are  brave.  They  are 
devoted  to  their  country,  and  are  willing  for  her  sake  to 
follow  me  to  victory  or  death.  As  I  am  a  knight,  I  am 
sworn  to  defend  the  cause  of  right,  —  and  where  sh-^U  I  so 
justly  find  it  as  on  the  side  of  bleeding,  wasted  Scotland  .■' 
How  shall  I  so  well  begin  my  career  as  in  the  defence  of 


THE   GLEN  OF  STONES.  I4I 

her  injured  sons  ?  Speak,  gentle  lady  !  Trust  me  with  your 
noble  father's  name,  and  he  shall  not  have  cause  to  blame  the 
confidence  you  repose  in  a  true  though  wandering  Scot ! " 

"  My  father,"  replied  Helen,  weeping  afresh,  "  is  not  where 
your  generous  services  can  reach  him.  Two  brave  chiefs 
—  one  a  kinsman  of  my  own,  and  the  other  his  friend  —  are 
now  coUeagued  to  free  him.  If  they  fail,  my  whole  house 
falls  in  blood;  and  to  add  another  victim  to  the  destiny 
which  in  that  case  will  overwhelm  me,  —  the  thought  is 
beyond  my  strength."  Faint  with  agitation,  and  the  horri- 
ble images  which  reawakened  her  direst  fears,  she  stopped, 
and  then  added  in  a  suppressed  voice,  "  Farewell !  " 

"  Not  till  you  hear  me  further,"  replied  the  knight.  "  I 
repeat,  I  have  now  a  scanty  number  of  followers;  but  I 
leave  these  mountains  to  gather  more.  Tell  me,  then, 
where  I  may  join  these  chiefs  you  speak  of ;  give  me  a 
pledge  that  I  come  from  you ;  and  whoever  may  be  your 
father,  as  he  is  a  true  Scot,  I  will  compass  his  release  or 
perish  in  the  attempt." 

"  Alas,  generous  stranger !  "  cried  she,  "  to  what  would 
you  persuade  me  ?     You  know  nqt  the  peril  that  you  ask !  " 

"  Nothing  is  perilous  to  me,"  replied  he,  with  a  heroic 
smile,  "  that  is  to  serve  my  country.  I  have  no  interest,  no 
joy,  but  in  her.  Give  me,  then,  the  only  happiness  of 
which  I  am  now  capable,  and  send  me  to  serve  her  by 
freeing  one  of  her  defenders  ! " 

Helen  hesitated.  The  tumult  of  her  mind  dried  her 
tears.  She  looked  up  with  all  these  inward  agitations 
painted  on  her  cheeks.  His  beaming  eyes  were  full  of 
patriotic  ardor;  and  his  fine  countenance,  composed  into 
a  heavenly  calmness  by  the  sublime  sentiments  which 
occupied  his  soul,  made  him  appear  to  her  not  as  a  man, 
but  as  a  god. 

"  Fear  not,  lady,"  said  the  hermit,  "  that  you  plunge  your 
deliverer  into  any  extraordinary  danger  by  involving  him 
in  what  you  might  call  rebellion  against  the  usurper.  He 
is  already  a  proscribed  man." 

"  Proscribed  !  "  repeated  she.  "  Wretched  indeed  is  my 
country  when  her  noblest  spirits  are  denied  the  right  to 
live ;  when  every  step  they  take  to  regain  what  has  been 
torn  from  them  only  involves  them  in  deeper  ruin  ! " 


142  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

"  No  country  is  wretched,  sweet  lady,"  returned  the 
knight,  "  till  by  a  dastardly  acquiescence  it  consents  to  its 
own  slavery.  Bonds  and  death  are  the  utmost  of  our 
enemies'  malice.  The  one  is  beyond  their  power  to  inflict, 
when  a  man  is  determined  to  die  or  to  live  free ;  and  for 
the  other,  which  of  us  will  think  that  ruin  which  leads  us 
into  the  blessed  freedom  of  paradise  ?  " 

Helen  looked  on  the  chief  as  she  used  to  look  on  her 
cousin  when  expressions  of  virtuous  enthusiasm  burst  from 
his  lips ;  but  now  it  was  rather  with  the  gaze  of  admiring 
awe  than  the  exultation  of  one  youthful  mind  sympathizing 
with  another.  "  You  would  teach  confidence  to  Despair 
herself,"  returned  she.  "  Again  I  hope,  for  God  does  not 
create  in  vain !  You  shall  know  my  father ;  but  first, 
generous  stranger,  let  me  apprise  you  of  every  danger  with 
which  that  knowledge  is  surrounded.  He  is  hemmed  in  by 
enemies.  Alas,  how  closely  are  they  connected  with  him  ! 
Not  the  English  only,  but  the  most  powerful  of  his  own 
countrymen,  are  leagued  against  him.  They  sold  my  father 
to  captivity,  and  perhaps  death;  and  I,  wretched  I,  was  the 
price.  To  free  him  the  noblest  of  Scottish  knights  is  now 
engaged;  but  such  hosts  impede  him  that  hope  hardly 
dares  hover  over  his  tremendous  path." 

"Then,"  cried  the  stranger,  "let  my  arm  be  second  to 
his  in  the  great  achievement.  My  heart  yearns  to  meet  a 
brother  in  arms  who  feels  for  Scotland  what  I  do ;  and 
with  such  a  coadjutor,  I  dare  promise  your  fatlier  liberty, 
and  that  the  power  of  England  shall  be  shaken." 

Helen's  heart  beat  violently  at  these  words.  "  I  would 
not  defer  the  union  of  two  such  minds.  Go,  then,  to  the 
Cartlane  craigs  —  But,  alas !  how  can  I  direct  you  ?  " 
cried  she ;  "  the  passes  are  beset  with  English,  and  1  know 
not  whether  at  this  moment  the  brave  Wallace  survives  to 
be  again  the  deliverer  of  my  father !  " 

Helen  paused.  The  recollection  of  all  that  Wallace  had 
suffered  for  the  sake  of  her  father,  and  of  the  mortal  ex- 
tremity in  which  Ket  left  him,  rose  like  a  dreadful  train 
of  apparitions  before  her.  A  pale  horror  overspread  her 
countenance,  and  lost  in  these  remembrances  she  did  not 
remark  the  start  and  rushing  color  of  the  knight  as  she 
pronounced  the  name  of  Wallace. 


THE   GLEN  OF  STONES.  143 

"If  Wallace  ever  had  the  happiness  of  serving  any  who 
belonged  to  you,"  returned  the  knight,  "  he  has  at  least  one 
source  of  pleasure  in  that  remembrance.  Tell  me  what  he 
can  further  do.  Only  say  where  is  that  father  whom  you 
say  he  once  preserved,  and  I  will  hasten  to  yield  my  feeble 
aid  to  repeat  the  service  !  " 

)  "  Alas  !  "  replied  Helen,  "  I  cannot  but  repeat  my  fears 
that  the  bravest  of  men  no  longer  exists.  Two  days 
before  I  was  betrayed  into  the  hands  of  the  traitor  from 
whom  you  rescued  me,  a  messenger  from  Cartlane  craigs 
informed  my  cousin  that  the  gallant  Wallace  was  sur- 
rounded, and  that  if  my  father  did  not  send  forces  to  relieve 
him  he  must  inevitably  perish.  No  forces  could  my  father 
send.  He  was  then  made  a  prisoner  by  the  English,  his 
retainers  shared  the  same  fate,  and  none  but  my  cousin 
escaped  to  accompany  the  honest  Scot  back  to  his  master. 
My  cousin  set  forth  with  a  few  followers  to  join  him, — a 
few  against  thousands." 

"  They  are  in  arms  for  their  country,  lady,"  returned  the 
knight,  "  and  a  thousand  invisible  angels  guard  them.  Fear 
not  for  them  !  But  for  your  father,  —  name  to  me  the 
place  of  his  confinement,  and  as  I  have  not  the  besiegers 
of  Cartlane  craigs  to  encounter,  I  engage,  with  God's  help 
and  the  arms  of  my  men,  who  never  yet  shrunk  from  sword 
or  spear,  to  set  the  brave  earl  free !  " 

"  How ! "  exclaimed  Helen,  remembering  that  she  had 
not  yet  mentioned  her  father's  rank,  and  gazing  at  him 
with  astonishment,  "  do  you  know  his  name  ?  Is  the 
misfortune  of  my  father  already  so  far  spread.^" 

"  Rather  say  his  virtue,  lady,"  answered  the  knight.  "  No 
man  who  watches  over  the  destiny  of  our  devoted  country 
can  be  ignorant  of  her  friends,  or  of  the  sufferers  who  bear 
for  her  sake.  I  know  that  the  Earl  of  Mar  has  made  him- 
self a  generous  sacrifice,  but  I  am  yet  to  learn  the  circum- 
stances from  you.  Speak  without  reserve,  that  I  may  seek 
the  accomplishment  of  my  vow,  and  restore  to  Scotland  its 
best  friend !  " 

"  Thou  brother  in  heart  to  the  generous  Wallace !  "  ex- 
claimed Lady  Helen,  "my  voice  is  feeble  to  thank  thee." 

The  hermit,  who  had  listened  in  silent  interest,  now  fear- 
ing the  consequence  of   so  much  emotion,  presented  her 


144  ^^^   SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

with  a  cup  of  water  and  a  little  fruit,  to  refresh  herself  be- 
fore she  satisfied  the  inquiries  of  the  knight.  She  put  the 
cup  to  her  lips,  to  gratify  the  benevolence  of  her  host,  but 
her  anxious  spirit  was  too  much  occupied  in  the  concerns 
dearest  to  her  heart  to  feel  the  wants  of  the  body,  and 
turning  to  the  knight,  she  briefly  related  what  had  been  the 
design  of  her  father  with  regard  to  Sir  William  Wallace, 
how  he  had  been  seized  at  Bothwell  and  sent  with  his 
family  a  prisoner  to  Dumbarton  castle. 

"Proceed,  then,  thither,"  continued  she.  "If  Heaven 
have  yet  spared  the  lives  of  Wallace  and  my  cousin  Mur- 
ray, you  will  meet  them  before  its  walls.  Meanwhile,  I 
shall  seek  the  protection  of  my  father's  sister,  and  in  her 
castle  near  the  Forth  abide  in  safety.  But,  noble  stranger, 
one  bond  I  must  lay  upon  you :  should  you  come  up  with 
my  cousin,  do  not  discover  that  you  have  met  with  me. 
He  is  precipitate  in  resentment;  and  his  hatred  is  so  hot 
against  Soulis,  my  betrayer,  that  should  he  know  the  out- 
rage I  have  sustained  he  would,  I  fear,  run  himself  and  the 
general  cause  into  great  danger  by  seeking  an  immediate 
revenge." 

The  stranger  readily  passed  his  word  to  Helen  that  he 
would  never  mention  her  name  to  any  of  her  family,  until 
she  herself  should  give  him  leave.  "  But  when  your  father 
is  restored  to  his  rights,"  continued  he,  "  in  his  presence  I 
hope  to  claim  my  acquaintance  with  his  lovely  daughter." 

Helen  blushed  at  this  compliment.  It  was  not  more  than 
any  man  in  his  situation  might  have  said,  but  it  confused 
her;  and  hardly  knowing  what  were  her  thoughts,  she 
answered,  "  His  personal  freedom  may  be  effected,  —  and 
God  grant  such  reward  to  your  prowess  !  But  his  other 
rights, —what  can  recover  them?  His  estates  sequestra- 
ted, his  vassals  in  bonds,  all  power  of  the  Earl  of  Mar  will 
be  annihilated;  and  from  some  obscure  refuge  like  this 
must  he  utter  his  thanks  to  his  daughter's  preserver." 

"  Not  so,  lady,"  replied  the  knight ;  "  the  sword  is  now 
raised  in  Scotland  that  cannot  be  laid  down  till  it  be  broken 
or  have  conquered.  All  have  suffered  by  Edward,  —  the 
powerful  banished  into  other  countries  that  their  wealth 
might  reward  foreign  mercenaries,  the  poor  driven  into  the 
waste  that  the  meanest  Southron  might  share  tht  spoil ! 


THE   GLEN  OF  STONES.  1 45 

Where  all  have  suffered,  all  must  be  ready  to  revenge.  And 
when  a  whole  people  take  up  arms  to  regain  their  rights, 
what  force  can  prevent  restitution  ?  " 

"  So  I  felt,"  returned  Helen,  "  while  I  had  not  yet  seen 
the  horrors  of  the  contest.  While  my  father  commanded 
in  Bothwell  castle,  and  was  sending  out  auxiliaries  to  the 
patriot  chief,  I  too  felt  nothing  but  the  inspiration  which 
led  them  on,  and  saw  nothing  but  the  victory  which  must 
crown  so  just  a  cause.  But  now  when  all  whom  my  father 
commanded  are  slain  or  carried  away  by  the  enemy,  when 
he  is  himself  a  prisoner  and  awaiting  the  sentence  of  the 
tyrant  he  opposed,  when  the  gallant  Wallace  instead  of 
being  able  to  hasten  to  his  rescue  is  besieged  by  a  number- 
less host,  —  hope  almost  dies  within  me,  and  I  fear  that 
whoever  may  be  fated  to  free  Scotland,  my  beloved  father 
and  those  belonging  to  him  are  first  to  be  made  a  sacrifice." 

She  turned  pale  as  she  spoke  ;  and  the  stranger  resumed : 
"  No,  lady ;  if  there  be  that  virtue  in  Scotland  which  can 
alone  deserve  freedom,  it  will  be  achieved.  I  am  an  incon- 
siderable man  ;  but  relying  on  the  God  of  justice,  I  promise 
you  your  father's  liberty  ;  and  let  his  freedom  be  a  pledge 
to  you  for  that  of  your  country.  I  now  go  to  rouse  a  few 
brave  spirits  to  arms.  Remember,  the  battle  is  not  to  the 
strong,  nor  victory  with  a  multitude  of  hosts  !  The  ban- 
ner 1  of  Saint  Andrew  was  once  held  from  the  heavens  over 
a  little  band  of  Scots,  while  they  discomfited  a  thousand 
enemies.  The  same  arm  leads  me  on ;  and  if  need  be,  I 
despair  not  to  see  it  again,  like  the  flaming  pillar  before  the 
Israelites,  consuming  the  enemies  of  Uberty  even  in  the 
fulness  of  their  might." 

While  he  yet  spoke,  the  hermit  re-entered  from  the  inner 
cell,  supporting  a  youth  on  his  arm.  At  sight  of  the  knight, 
who  held  out  his  hand  to  him,  he  dropped  on  his  knees  and 

'  At  a  time  when  Achaius,  King  of  Scots,  and  Hungus,  King  of  the 
Picts,  were  fiercely  driven  by  Athelstan,  King  of  Northumberland,  into 
East  Lothian,  full  of  terrors  of  what  the  next  morning  might  bring  forth, 
Hungus  fell  into  a  sleep,  and  beheld  a  vision,  which,  tradition  tells,  was 
verified  the  ensuing  day  by  the  appearance  of  the  cross  of  Saint  Andrew 
held  out  to  hun  from  the  heavens,  and  waving  him  to  victory.  Under 
this  banner  he  conquered  the  Northumberiand  forces;  and  slaying  their 
leader,  the  scene  of  the  battle  has  henceforth  been  called  Athelstanford. 

VOL    I.  —  lO 


146  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

burst  into  tears.  "  Do  you,  then,  leave  me  ?  "  cried  he ; 
"  am  I  not  to  serve  my  preserver  ?  " 

Helen  rose  in  indescribable  agitation.  There  was  some- 
thing in  the  feelings  of  the  boy  that  was  infectious ;  and 
while  her  own  heart  beat  violently,  she  looked  first  on  his 
emaciated  figure,  and  then  at  the  noble  contour  of  the 
knight,  "  where  every  god  had  set  his  seal."  His  beaming 
eyes  seemed  the  very  fountains  of  consolation ;  his  cheek 
was  bright  with  generous  emotions  ;  and  turning  from  the 
suppliant  boy  to  Helen,  she  advanced  a  few  paces  towards 
him. 

"  Rise,"  said  he  to  the  youth,  "  and  behold  in  this  lady 
the  object  of  the  service  to  which  I  appoint  you.  You  will 
soon,  I  hope,  be  sufiiciently  recovered  to  attend  upon  her 
wishes  as  you  would  upon  mine.  Be  her  servant  and  her 
guard.  And  when  we  meet  again,  as  she  will  then  be  under 
the  protection  of  her  father,  if  you  do  not  prefer  so  gentle 
a  service  before  the  rougher  one  of  war,  I  will  resume  you 
to  myself." 

The  young  man,  who  had  obeyed  the  knight  and  risen, 
bowed  respectfully;  and  Helen,  uttering  some  incoherent 
words  of  thanks  to  hide  her  increasing  agitation,  turned 
away. 

The  hermit  exclaimed,  "  Again,  my  son,  I  beseech  Heaven 
to  bless  thee  !  " 

"  And  may  its  guardian  care  protect  all  here  !  "  returned 
the  knight. 

Helen  looked  up  to  bid  him  a  last  farewell,  but  he  was 
gone.  The  hermit  had  left  the  cell  with  him,  and  the  youth 
also  had  disappeared  into  the  inner  cave.  Being  left  alone, 
she  threw  herself  down  before  the  altar,  and  giving  way  to 
a  burst  of  tears,  inwardly  implored  Heaven  to  protect  the 
knight's  life,  and  by  his  means  to  grant  safety  to  Wallace 
and  freedom  to  her  father. 

As  she  prayed,  her  agitation  subsided ;  and  a  holy  con- 
fidence elevating  her  mind,  she  remained  in  an  ecstasy  of 
hope,  till  a  solemn  voice  from  behind  aroused  her  from  this 
happy  trance. 

"  Blessed  are  they  who  put  their  trust  in  God  !  " 

She  started  up  and  perceived  the  hermit,  who  on  entering 
had  observed  her  devout  position,  and  a  spontaneous  bene- 


THE  HERMIT'S  CELL.  1 47 

diction  broke  from  his  lips.  "  Daughter,"  said  he,  leading 
her  to  a  seat,  "  this  hero  will  prevail ;  for  the  Power  before 
whose  altar  you  have  just  knelt  has  declared  '  My  might  is 
with  them  who  obey  my  laws  and  put  their  trust  in  me  ! ' 
You  speak  highly  of  the  young  and  valiant  Sir  WiUiam 
Wallace,  but  I  cannot  conceive  that  he  can  be  better 
formed  for  great  and  heroic  deeds  than  is  this  chief. 
Suppose  them,  then,  to  be  equal ;  when  they  have  met, 
with  two  such  leaders,  what  may  not  a  few  determined 
Scots  perform  !  " 

Helen  sympathized  with  the  cheering  prognostications  of 
the  hermit ;  and  wishing  to  learn  the  name  of  this  rival  of 
a  character  she  had  regarded  as  unparalleled,  she  asked 
with  a  blush  by  what  title  she  must  call  the  knight  who  had 
undertaken  so  hazardous  an  enterprise  for  her. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE   hermit's    cell. 

"  T  KNOW  not,"  returned  the  hermit ;  "  I  never  saw 
-L  your  gallant  deliverer  before  yesterday  morning. 
Roused  from  my  orisons  by  a  sudden  noise,  I  beheld  a 
deer  rush  down  the  precipice  and  fall  headlong.  As  he  lay 
struggling  amongst  the  stones  at  the  entrance  of  my  cave, 
I  had  just  observed  an  arrow  in  his  side,  when  a  shout 
issued  from  the  rocks  above,  and  looking  up,  I  beheld  a 
young  warrior  with  a  bow  in  his  hand  leaping  from  cliff  to 
cliff,  till  springing  from  a  high  projection  on  the  right  he 
lit  at  once  at  the  head  of  the  wounded  deer. 

"  Seeing  by  his  bonnet  and  plaid  that  he  was  a  Scot,  I 
emerged  from  the  recess  that  concealed  me,  and  addressed 
him  with  the  benediction  of  the  morning.  His  followers 
immediately  appeared,  and  with  a  stroke  of  their  broad- 
swords slew  the  animal.  The  chief  left  them  to  dress  it  for 
their  own  refreshment,  and  on  my  invitation  entered  the 
cell  to  share  a  hermit's  fare. 

"  I  told  him  who  I  was,  and  what  had  driven  me  to  this 
seclusion.     In  return,  he  informed  me  of  a  design  he  had 


148  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

conceived  to  stimulate  the  surrounding  chiefs  to  some  exer- 
tions for  their  country ;  but  as  he  never  mentioned  his  name, 
I  concluded  he  wished  it  to  remain  unrevealed,  and  there- 
fore I  forbore  to  inquire  it.  I  imparted  to  him  my  doubts 
of  the  possibility  of  any  single  individual  being  able  to 
arouse  the  slumbering  courage  of  his  country,  but  his  lan- 
guage soon  filled  me  with  other  thoughts.  The  arguments 
he  used  were  few  and  conclusive.  He  set  before  me  the 
perfidy  of  King  Edward,  who,  being  deemed  a  prince  of 
high  honor,  was  chosen  umpire  in  the  cause  of  Bruce  and 
Baliol.  He  accepted  the  task  in  the  character  of  a  friend 
to  Scotland ;  but  no  sooner  was  he  advanced  into  the  heart 
of  our  kingdom  at  the  head  of  the  large  army  he  had 
treacherously  introduced  as  a  mere  appendage  of  state,  than 
he  declared  the  act  of  judgment  was  his  right  as  liege  lord 
of  the  realm.  This  falsehood,  which  the  testimony  of  men 
and  our  records  disproved  at  the  outset,  was  not  his  only 
baseness;  he  bought  the  conscience  of  Baliol,  and  adjudged 
to  him  the  throne.  That  recreant  prince  acknowledged  him 
his  master;  and  in  the  degrading  ceremony  of  homage,  he 
was  followed  by  almost  all  the  Scottish  lords.  But  this  vile 
yielding  did  not  purchase  them  peace ;  Edward  demanded 
oppressive  services  from  the  king,  and  the  castles  of  the 
nobility  to  be  resigned  to  English  governors.  These  re- 
quisitions being  remonstrated  against  by  a  few  of  our  bold- 
est chiefs,  among  whom  your  illustrious  father,  gentle  lady, 
stood  the  most  conspicuous,  the  tyrant  repeated  them  with 
additional  demands,  and  prepared  to  resent  the  remonstrance 
on  the  whole  nation. 

"  Three  months  have  hardly  elapsed  since  the  fatal  battle 
of  Dunbar.  Indignant  at  the  accumulated  outrages  com- 
mitted on  their  passive  monarch,  on  that  field  the  nobles 
arose,  too  late,  to  assert  their  rights ;  and  one  defeat  drove 
them  to  despair.  Baliol  was  taken,  and  themselves  obliged 
again  to  swear  fealty  to  their  enemy.  Then  came  the  seiz- 
ure of  the  treasures  of  our  monasteries,  the  burning  of  the 
national  records,  the  sequestration  of  our  property,  the  ban- 
ishment of  our  chiefs,  the  violation  of  our  women,  and  the 
slavery  or  murder  of  the  poor  people  yoked  to  the  land. 
'The  storm  of  desolation  thus  raging  over  our  country, 
how,'  cried  the  young  warrior  to  me,  '  can  any  of  her  sons 


THE  HERMIT'S  CELL.  1 49 

shrink  from  the  glory  of  again  attempting  her  restoration  ? ' 
He  then  informed  me  that  Earl  de  Warenne,  whom  Edward 
had  left  Lord  Warden  of  Scotland,  was  ill,  and  had  retired 
to  London,  leaving  Aymer  de  Valence  to  be  his  deputy. 
To  this  new  tyrant  De  Warenne  has  lately  sent  a  host  of 
mercenaries  to  hold  the  south  of  Scotland  in  subjection, 
and  to  reinforce  Cressingham  and  Ormsby,  who  command 
northwards  from  Stirling  to  the  shores  of  Sutherland. 

"  With  these  representations  of  the  conduct  of  our  oppres- 
sors, the  brave  knight  demonstrated  the  facility  with  which 
invaders,  drunk  with  power  and  gorged  with  rapine,  could 
be  vanquished  by  a  resolute  and  hardy  people.  The  ab- 
sence of  Edward,  who  is  now  abroad,  increases  the  prob- 
ability of  success.  The  knight's  design  is  to  infuse  his  own 
spirit  into  the  bosoms  of  the  chiefs  in  this  part  of  the  king- 
dom, —  by  their  assistance  to  seize  the  fortresses  in  the 
Lowlands,  and  so  form  a  chain  of  repulsion  against  the  ad- 
mission of  fresh  troops  from  England.  Then,  while  other 
chiefs  to  whom  he  means  to  apply  rise  in  the  Highlands, 
the  Southron  garrisons  there,  being  unsupported  by  sup- 
plies, must  become  an  easy  prey,  and  would  yield  men  of 
consequence,  to  be  exchanged  for  our  countrymen  now  pris- 
oners in  England.  For  the  present,  he  wishes  to  be  fur- 
nished with  merely  troops  enough  to  take  some  castle  of 
power  sufficient  to  give  confidence  to  his  friends.  On  his 
becoming  master  of  such  a  place,  it  should  be  the  signal  for 
all  to  declare  themselves,  and  rising  at  once,  to  overwhelm 
Edward's  garrisons  in  every  part  of  Scotland. 

"  This  is  the  knight's  plan ;  and  for  your  sake,  as  well  as 
for  the  cause,  I  hope  the  first  fortress  he  gains  may  be  that 
of  Dumbarton.  It  has  always  been  considered  the  key  of 
the  country." 

"May  Heaven  grant  it,  holy  father,"  returned  Helen; 
"  and  whoever  this  knight  may  be,  I  pray  the  blessed  Saint 
Andrew  to  guide  his  arms  !  " 

"  If  I  may  venture  to  guess  who  he  is,"  replied  the  her- 
mit, "  I  would  say  that  noble  brow  was  formed  some  day  to 
wear  a  crown." 

"  What ! "  said  Helen,  starting,  "  you  think  this  knight 
is  the  royal  Bruce  .-" " 

"  I  am  at  a  loss  what  to  think,"  replied  the  hermit.     "  He 


150  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

has  a  most  princely  air ;  and  there  is  such  an  overflowing  of 
soul  towards  his  country  when  he  speaks  of  it,  that  —  Such 
love  can  spring  from  no  other  than  the  royal  heart  which 
was  created  to  foster  and  to  bless  it." 

"  But  is  he  not  too  young?"  inquired  Helen.  "I  have 
heard  my  father  say  that  Bruce,  Lord  of  Annandale,  the 
opponent  of  Baliol  for  the  crown,  was  much  his  senior ;  and 
that  his  son,  the  Earl  of  Garrick,  must  be  now  fifty  years 
of  age.  This  knight,  if  I  am  any  judge  of  looks,  cannot  be 
twenty-five." 

"  True,"  answered  the  hermit,  "  and  yet  he  may  be  a 
Bruce  ;  for  it  is  neither  of  the  two  you  have  mentioned  that 
I  mean,  but  tlie  grandson  of  the  one  and  the  son  of  the 
other.  You  may  see  by  this  silver  beard,  lady,  that  the 
winter  of  my  life  is  far  spent.  The  elder  Bruce,  Robert 
Lord  of  Annandale,  was  my  contemporary ;  we  were  boys 
together,  and  educated  at  the  same  college  in  Icolmkill. 
He  was  brave,  and  passed  his  manhood  in  visiting  different 
courts ;  and  at  last  marr^'ing  a  lady  of  the  princely  house 
of  Clare,  he  took  her  to  France,  and  there  left  his  only  son 
to  be  brought  up  under  the  renowned  Saint  Louis.  Young 
Robert  took  the  Cross  while  quite  a  youth,  and  carrying 
the  banner  of  the  holy  King  of  France  to  the  plains  of  Pal- 
estine, covered  himself  with  glory.  In  storming  a  Saracen 
fortress  he  rescued  the  person  of  Prince  Edward  of  Eng- 
land. The  horrible  tyrant  who  now  tramples  on  all  laws, 
human  and  divine,  was  then  in  the  bloom  of  youth,  defend- 
ing the  cause  of  Christianity !  Think  on  that,  sweet  lady, 
and  marvel  at  the  changing  power  of  ambition  ! 

"  From  that  hour,  a  strict  friendship  subsisted  between 
the  two  young  crusaders ;  and  when  Edward  mounted  the 
throne  of  England,  he  being  then  the  ally  of  Scotland,  the 
Earl  of  Annandale,  to  please  his  wife  and  his  son,  took  up 
his  residence  at  the  English  court.  When  the  male  issue  of 
David  failed  in  the  untimely  death  of  our  Alexander  III., 
then  came  the  contention  between  Bruce  and  Baliol  for  the 
vacant  crown.  Our  most  venerable  chiefs,  the  guardians 
of  our  laws,  and  the  witnesses  of  the  parliamentary  settle- 
ment which  had  been  made  on  the  house  of  Bruce  during 
the  reign  of  the  late  king,  all  declared  for  Lord  Annandale. 
He  was  not  only  the  male  heir  in  propinquity  of  blood,  but 


THE  HERMIT'S  CELL.  151 

his  experienced  years  and  known  virtues  made  all  eager  to 
place  him  on  the  throne. 

"  Meanwhile  Edward,  forgetting  friendship  to  his  friend 
and  fidelity  to  a  faithful  ally,  was  undermining  the  interest 
of  Bruce  and  the  peace  of  the  kingdom.  Inferior  rivals  to 
our  favorite  prince  were  soon  discountenanced ;  but  by 
covert  ways,  with  bribes  and  promises,  the  King  of  Eng- 
land raised  such  an  opposition  on  the  side  of  BaHol  as 
threatened  a  civil  war.  Secure  in  his  right,  and  averse  to 
plunge  his  country  in  blood,  Bruce  easily  fell  in  with  a  pro- 
posal that  was  insidiously  hinted  to  him  by  one  of  Edward's 
creatures,  to  require  that  monarch  to  be  umpire  between 
him  and  BaHol.  Then  it  was  that  Edward,  after  soliciting 
the  requisition  as  an  honor  to  be  conferred  on  him,  declared 
it  was  his  right  as  supreme  lord  of  Scotland.  The  Earl  of 
Annandale  refused  to  acknowledge  this  assumption.  Baliol 
bowed  to  it,  and  for  such  obedience  the  unrighteous  judge 
gave  him  the  crown.  Bruce  absolutely  refused  to  acknowl- 
edge the  justice  of  this  decision ;  and  to  avoid  the  power  of 
the  king  who  had  betrayed  his  rights,  and  the  jealousy  of 
the  other  who  had  usurped  them,  he  immediately  left  the 
scene  of  action,  and  went  over  seas  to  join  his  son,  who 
happened  to  be  in  Paris.  But  alas,  even  that  comfort 
was  denied  him,  for  he  died  on  the  road,  of  a  broken 
heart. 

"When  his  son  Robert,  who  was  Earl  of  Carrick  in 
right  of  his  wife,  returned  to  Britain,  he,  like  his  father, 
disdained  to  acknowledge  Baliol  as  king.  But  being  more 
incensed  at  his  successful  rival  than  at  the  treachery  of 
his  false  friend  Edward,  he  believed  the  latter's  dossing- 
speeches,  and,  by  what  infatuation  1  cannot  tell,  established 
his  residence  at  that  monarch's  court.  This  forgetfulness 
of  his  royal  blood  and  of  the  independency  of  Scotland 
has  nearly  obliterated  him  from  every  Scottish  heart;  for 
when  we  look  at  Bruce  the  courtier,  we  cease  to  remember 
Bruce  the  descendant  of  Saint  David,  Bruce  the  valiant 
knight  of  the  Cross,  who  bled  for  true  liberty  before  the 
walls  of  Jerusalem. 

"  His  eldest  son  may  be  now  about  the  age  of  the  young 
knight  who  has  just  left  us.  And  when  I  look  on  his  royal 
port,  and  listen  to  the  patriotic  fervors  of  his  soul,  I  cannot 


152  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

but  think  that  the  spirit  of  his  noble  grandfather  has  revived 
in  his  breast,  —  and  that  leaving  his  indolent  father  to  the 
vassal  luxuries  of  Edward's  palace,  he  is  come  hither  in 
secret,  to  arouse  Scotland  and  to  assert  his  claim." 

"  It  is  very  likely,"  rejoined  Helen,  deeply  sighing;  "and 
may  Heaven  reward  his  virtue  with  the  crown  of  his 
ancestors ! " 

"  To  that  end,"  replied  the  hermit,  "  shall  my  hands  be 
lifted  up  in  prayer  day  and  night.  May  I,  O  gracious 
Power  !  "  cried  he,  looking  upwards  and  pressing  the  cross 
to  his  breast,  "live  but  to  see  that  hero  victorious,  and 
Scotland  free  ;  and  then  let  thy  servant  depart  in  peace, 
since  mine  eyes  will  have  seen  her  salvation  !  " 

"Her  salvation,  father?"  said  Helen,  timidly;  "is  not 
that  too  sacred  a  word  to  apply  to  anything,  however 
dear,  that  relates  to  earth  ?  " 

She  blushed  as  she  spoke,  and  fearful  of  having  too 
daringly  objected,  looked  down  as  she  awaited  his  answer. 
The  hermit  observed  her  attentively,  and  with  a  benign 
smile  replied :  "  Earth  and  heaven  are  the  work  of  one 
Creator.  He  careth  alike  for  angel  and  for  man ;  and 
therefore  nothing  that  he  has  made  is  too  mean  to  be  the 
objects  of  his  salvation.  The  word  is  comprehensive.  In 
one  sense  it  may  signify  our  redemption  from  sin  and 
death,  by  the  coming  of  the  Lord  of  Life  into  this  world ; 
and  in  another,  it  intimates  the  different  means  by  which 
Providence  decrees  the  ultimate  happiness  of  men.  Hap- 
piness can  only  be  found  in  virtue,  and  virtue  cannot  exist 
without  liberty.  Hence,  when  Scotland  is  again  made  free, 
the  bonds  of  the  tyrant  who  corrupts  her  principles  with 
temptations,  or  compels  her  to  iniquity  by  threats,  are 
broken.  Again  the  honest  peasant  may  cultivate  his  lands 
in  security,  the  liberal  hand  feed  the  hungry,  and  industry 
spread  smiling  plenty  through  all  ranks.  Every  man  to 
whom  his  Maker  hath  given  talents,  let  them  be  one  or  five, 
may  apply  them  to  use,  and  by  eating  the  bread  of  peaceful 
labor,  rear  families  to  virtuous  action  and  the  worship  of 
God.  The  nobles,  meanwhile,  looking  alone  to  the  legis- 
lation of  Heaven  and  to  the  laws  of  Scotland,  which  alike 
demand  justice  and  mercy  from  all,  will  live  the  fathers 
of  their  country,  teaching   her   brave  sons   that  the  only 


THE  HERMITS  CELL.  153 

homage  which  does  not  debase  a  man  is  that  which  he 
pays  to  virtue. 

"  This  it  is  to  be  free,  this  it  is  to  be  virtuous,  this  it  is  to 
be  happy,  this  it  is  to  live  the  life  of  righteousness  and  to 
die  in  the  hope  of  immortal  glory !  Say,  then,  dear  daugh- 
ter, if,  in  praying  for  the  liberty  of  Scotland,  I  said  too 
much  in  calling  it  her  salvation  ?  " 

"  Forgive  me,  father  ! "  cried  Helen,  overcome  with 
shame  at  having  questioned  him. 

"  Forgive  you  what .?  "  returned  he.  "  I  love  the  holy 
zeal  which  is  jealous  of  allowing  objects  dear  even  to  your 
wishes  to  encroach  on  the  sanctuary  of  heaven.  Be  ever 
thus,  meek  child  of  the  Church,  and  no  human  idol  will  be 
able  to  usurp  that  part  of  your  virgin  heart  which  belongs 
to  God." 

Helen  blushed.  "  My  heart,  reverend  father,"  returned 
she,  "  has  but  one  wish,  —  the  liberty  of  Scotland ;  and  with 
that,  the  safety  of  my  father  and  of  his  brave  deliverers." 

"  Sir  William  Wallace  I  never  have  seen,"  rejoined  the 
hermit ;  "  but  when  he  was  quite  a  youth,  I  heard  of  his 
graceful  victories  in  the  mimic  war  of  the  jousts  at  Berwick, 
when  Edward  first  marched  into  this  country  under  the 
mask  of  friendship.  From  what  you  have  said,  I  do  not 
doubt  his  being  a  worthy  supporter  of  Bruce.  However, 
dear  daughter,  as  it  is  only  a  suspicion  of  mine  that  the 
knight  is  this  young  prince,  for  his  safety  and  for  the  sake 
of  the  cause  we  must  not  let  the  name  escape  our  lips. 
No,  not  even  to  your  relations  when  you  rejoin  them,  nor 
to  the  youth  whom  his  humanity  put  under  my  protection. 
Till  he  reveals  his  own  secret,  for  us  to  divulge  it  would  be 
folly  and  dishonor." 

Helen  bowed  acquiescence ;  and  the  hermit  proceeded  to 
inform  her  who  the  youth  was  whom  the  stranger  had  left 
to  be  her  page. 

In  addition  to  what  the  knight  had  himself  told  her  of 
Walter  Hay,  the  unfortunate  shepherd  boy  of  the  ruined 
hut,  her  venerable  host  narrated  that  the  young  warrior, 
having  quitted  the  holy  cell  after  his  first  appearance  there, 
soon  returned  with  the  wounded  youth  whom  he  had  found. 
He  committed  him  to  the  care  of  the  hermit,  promising  to 
revisit  him  in  his  way  from  the  south,  and  then  to  take  the 


154  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

recovered  Walter  under  his  own  protection.  "  He  then  left 
us,"  continued  the  old  man,  "  but  soon  reappeared  with  you, 
—  showing,  in  the  strongest  language,  that  he  who  in  spite 
of  every  danger  succors  the  sons  and  daughters  of  violated 
Scotland  is  proclaimed  by  the  spirit  of  Heaven  to  be  her 
future  deliverer  and  king." 

As  he  ended  speaking,  he  rose,  and  taking  Helen  by  the 
hand  led  her  into  an  inner  excavation  of  the  rock,  where 
a  bed  of  dried  leaves  lay  on  the  ground.  "  Here,  gentle 
lady,"  said  he,  "  I  leave  you  to  repose.  In  the  evening  I 
expect  a  lay  brother  from  St.  Oran's  monastery ;  and  he  will 
be  your  messenger  to  the  friends  you  may  wish  to  rejoin. 
At  present,  may  gentlest  seraphs  guard  your  slumbers  !  " 

Helen,  fatigued  in  spirit  and  in  body,  thanked  the  good 
hermit  for  his  care,  and  bowing  to  his  blessing,  he  left  her 
to  repose. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

GLENFINLASS. 

GUIDED  by  Ker,  Murray  led  his  followers  over  the 
Lanark  hills  by  the  most  untrodden  wilds,  and  there- 
fore avoided  even  the  sight  of  a  Southron  soldier. 

Cheered  by  so  favorable  a  commencement  of  their  expedi- 
tion, they  felt  no  dismay  when,  at  the  glooming  of  evening, 
Ker  descried  a  body  of  armed  men  at  a  distance  sitting 
round  a  fire.  They  were  stationed  at  the  foot  of  a  beetling 
rock  which  guards  the  western  entrance  to  the  Cartlane 
craigs.  Murray  ordered  his  men  to  fall  back  amongst  the 
bushes ;  and  making  the  sign  concerted  in  case  of  such  a 
dilemma,  they  struck  their  iron  crows  into  the  interstices 
of  the  cliff,  and  catching  at  the  branches  which  grew  out 
of  its  precipitous  side,  with  much  labor  and  in  perfect 
silence  they  gained  the  summit.  That  effected,  they  pur- 
sued their  way  with  the  same  caution,  till  after  a  long 
march,  without  encountering  a  human  being,  they  came  to 
the  base  of  the  huge  rock  which  Wallace  had  made  his 
fortress. 


GLENFINLASS.  I55 

Ker,  who  expected  to  see  it  surrounded  by  an  English 
army,  was  amazed  to  find  a  deathlike  solitude.  In  a  low 
voice  he  said  to  Murray,  "  The  place  is  deserted  !  My 
brave  friend  has  miraculously  escaped :  or,  what  is  more 
probable,  compelled  by  the  extremity  of  his  little  garrison, 
he  has  been  obliged  to  surrender." 

"  We  will  ascend  and  see,"  was  Murray's  answer. 

Ker  led  round  the  rock  to  the  most  accessible  point ;  and 
mounting  by  the  projecting  stones,  with  some  difficulty 
gained  the  top.  Silence  pervaded  every  part,  and  the 
rusfged  cavities  at  the  summit  which  had  formed  the  tem- 
porary  houses  of  his  comrades  were  lonely.  On  entering 
the  recess  where  Wallace  used  to  seek  a  few  minutes' 
slumber,  the  moon,  which  shone  full  into  the  cave,  dis- 
covered something  bright  lying  in  a  distant  corner.  Ker 
hastily  approached  it,  recollecting  what  Wallace  had  told 
him,  —  that  if  during  his  absence  he  could  find  means  of 
escape,  he  would  leave  some  weapon  as  a  sign :  a  dagger, 
if  it  were  by  the  south  point,  where  he  must  fight  his  way 
through  the  valley ;  and  an  arrow,  if  it  were  by  the  north, 
as  he  should  then  seek  an  asylum  for  his  exhausted  fol- 
lowers in  the  wilds  of  Glenfinlass. 

It  was  the  iron  head  of  an  arrow  which  the  moon  had 
silvered ;  and  Ker,  catching  it  up,  with  a  gladdened  counte- 
nance exclaimed,  "  He  is  safe  !  this  leads  us  to  Glenfinlass  !  " 
He  then  explained  to  Murray  what  had  been  the  arrange- 
ment of  Wallace  respecting  this  sign,  and  without  hesita- 
tion they  decided  to  follow  him. 

Turning  towards  the  northern  part  of  the  cliff,  they  came 
to  a  spot  which  had  been  under  the  strongest  guard  of  the 
enemy,  but  which  now  like  the  rest  was  deserted.  A  nar- 
row winding  path  led  from  this  rocky  platform  to  a  fall  of 
water  which  rushed  impetuously  by  the  mouth  of  a  large 
cavern.  After  they  had  descended  the  main  craig,  they 
clambered  over  the  top  of  the  cave,  and  entering  upon 
another  sweep  of  rugged  hills,  commenced  a  rapid  march. 

Traversing  the  lower  part  of  Stirlingshire,  they  crossed 
Graham's  Dyke,i  and  pursuing  their  course  westward,  left 

1  The  great  wall  of  Severus,  which  runs  between  Abercorn  and  Kirk- 
patrick,  being  attacked  by  the  Scots  at  the  time  the  Romans  abandoned 
Britain,  a  huge  breach  was  made  in  it  by  Graham  (or  Greame),  the  uncle 


156  THE    SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

Stirling  castle  far  to  the  right.  They  ascended  the  Ochil 
hills,  and  proceeding  along  the  wooded  heights  which  over- 
hang the  banks  of  Teith,  forded  the  river,  and  entered  at 
once  into  the  broad  valley  which  opened  to  them  a  distant 
view  of  Ben  Lomond  and  Ben  Lidi. 

"  There,"  exclaimed  Ker,  extending  his  hand  towards  the 
cloud-capped  Lidi,  "  beneath  the  shadow  of  that  mountain 
we  shall  find  the  light  of  Scotland,  —  our  dear  master-in- 
arms ! " 

At  this  intimation  the  wearied  Murrays  —  like  seamen 
long  harassed  on  a  tempestuous  ocean,  at  sight  of  a  port  — 
uttered  a  shout  of  joy ;  and  hastening  forward  with  reno- 
vated strength,  met  a  foaming  river  roaring  in  their  path. 
Despising  all  obstacles,  they  rushed  in,  and  buffeting  the 
waves  soon  found  a  firm  footing  on  the  opposite  shore.  The 
sun  shone  cheerily  above  their  heads,  and  illuminating  the 
sides  of  the  mountains  hung  their  umbrageous  defiles  with 
dewy  splendor.  Ben  Lidi,  the  standard  .of  their  hope, 
seemed  to  wave  them  on,  as  the  white  clouds  streamed 
from  its  summit,  and  rolling  down  its  dark  sides,  floated  in 
strange  visionary  shapes  over  the  lakes  beneath. 

When  the  little  troop  halted  on  the  shore  of  Loch  Vana- 
choir,  the  mists  which  lingered  on  the  brow  of  Lidi  slowly 
descended  into  the  valley,  and  covering  the  mouth  of  the 
pass  that  led  from  the  loch,  seemed  to  shut  them  at  once 
between  the  mountain  and  that  world  of  waters.  Ker,  who 
had  never  been  in  these  tracts  before,  wondered  at  their 
sublimity,  and  became  alarmed  lest  they  should  lose  their 
way  amid  their  infinite  windings ;  but  Murray,  who  remem- 
bered having  explored  them  with  his  father  in  his  way  to 
Argyleshire,  led  forward  through  a  steep  rough  road  on  the 
side  of  the  mountain.  As  they  clung  by  the  slippery  rocks 
which  overhung  the  lake,  the  mists  dissolved  into  a  heavy 
shower,  and  by  degrees  clearing  away,  discovered  the  shin- 
ing heads  of  Ben  Lomond  and  Ben  Chochan. 

They  now  entered  a  winding  labyrinth  of  craigs,  and 
passing  onward,  gradually  descended  amid  pouring  torrents 
and  gaping  chasms  overlaced  with  branching  trees,  till  the 

of  the  young  king  of  Scots.  By  this  achievement  he  conquered  the  whole 
of  the  country  as  far  as  the  Cheviots ;  and  the  wall  of  Severus  has  since 
been  called  Graham's  Dyke. 


GLEiVFINLASS.  1 5  7 

augmented  roar  of  waters  intimated  to  Murray  that  they 
drew  near  the  great  fall  of  Glenfinlass.  The  river,  though 
rushing  on  its  course  with  the  noise  of  thunder,  was  scarcely 
discerned  through  the  thick  forest  which  groaned  over  its 
waves.  Here  towered  a  host  of  stately  pines ;  and  there 
the  lofty  beeches,  birches,  and  mountain  oak,  bending  over 
the  flood,  interwove  their  giant  arms,  and  formed  an  arch 
so  impenetrable,  that,  while  the  sun  brightened  the  tops  of 
the  mountains,  all  beneath  lay  in  deepest  midnight. 

The  awful  entrance  to  this  sublime  valley  struck  the 
whole  party  with  a  feeling  that  made  them  pause.  It 
seemed  as  if  to  these  sacred  solitudes,  hidden  in  the  very 
bosom  of  Scotland,  no  hostile  foot  dared  intrude.  Murray 
looked  at  Ker :  "  We  go,  my  friend,  to  arouse  the  genius  of 
these  wilds.  Here  are  the  native  fastnesses  of  Scotland; 
and  from  this  pass  the  spirit  will  issue  that  is  to  bid  her 
enslaved  sons  and  daughters  be  free  !  " 

They  entered,  and  with  beating  hearts  pursued  their  way 
along  the  western  border  of  Loch  Lubnaig,  till  the  royal 
heights  of  Craignacoheilg  showed  their  summits,  covered 
with  heath  and  many  an  ivied  turret.  The  forest,  stretch- 
ing far  over  the  valley,  lost  its  high  trees  in  the  shadows  of 
the  surrounding  mountains,  and  told  them  they  were  now 
in  the  centre  of  Glenfinlass. 

Ker  put  his  bugle  to  his  lips  and  sounded  the  pibroch  of 
Ellerslie.  A  thousand  echoes  returned  the  notes ;  and  after 
a  pause,  which  allowed  the  last  response  to  die  away,  the 
air  was  answered  by  a  horn  from  the  heights  of  Craignaco- 
heilg. At  the  same  moment  an  armed  man  appeared  on 
the  rock,  leaning  forward.  Ker  drew  near,  and  taking  off 
his  bonnet,  called  aloud  :  "  Stephen,  it  is  William  Ker  who 
speaks.  I  come  with  the  Lord  Andrew  Murray  of  Bothwell, 
to  the  support  of  our  commander.  Sir  William  Wallace." 

At  these  words,  Stephen  placed  his  bugle  to  his  mouth, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  the  rock  was  covered  with  the  mem- 
bers of  its  little  garrison.  Women  and  children  appeared, 
shouting  with  joy ;  and  the  men,  descending  the  side  next 
the  glen,  hastened  to  bid  their  comrades  welcome.  One 
advanced  towards  Murray,  who  instantly  recognized  him  to 
be  Sir  Roger  Kirkpatrick  of  Torthorald.  The  chiefs  sa- 
luted each  other;  and  Lord  Andrew  pointed  to  his  men. 


158  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

"  I  have  brought,"  said  he,  "  these  few  brave  fellows  to  the 
aid  of  Sir  William  Wallace.  Poor  as  is  mv  offering,  I  am 
impatient  to  express  my  gratitude  for  the  blessing  he  pre- 
served to  me,  —  the  life  of  my  uncle  Mar." 

Kirkpatrick's  answer  disappointed  the  eager  spirit  of  the 
young  warrior :  "  I  am  sorry,  brave  Murray,  that  you  have 
no  better  knight  to  receive  you  than  myself.  I  and  the 
gallant  chief  have  not  yet  met ;  but  I  am  in  arms  for  him, 
and  the  hour  of  retribution  for  my  injuries  as  well  as  for  his 
is  at  hand." 

"  But  where  is  Sir  William  Wallace  ?  "  demanded  Murray. 

"  Gone  towards  the  Forth,  to  rouse  that  part  of  sleeping 
Scotland.  If  all  he  meet  have  my  spirit,  they  will  not  re- 
quire a  second  call.  Now  is  the  time  to  aim  the  blow,  and 
thanks  to  the  accident  which  brought  me  the  welcome  news 
that  an  arm  was  raised  that  would  strike  it  home  !  " 

As  he  spoke,  he  led  Murray  to  the  cliffs  which  crown  the 
summit  of  Craignacoheilg ;  and  conducting  him  into  the 
lower  apartment  of  a  tower,  which  had  once  been  a  favorite 
hunting  lodge  of  the  great  King  Fergus,  he  welcomed  him 
a  second  time.  "  This,"  said  he,  "  is  the  far-famed  lodge 
of  the  three  Kings.  Here  did  our  heroic  Fergus,  attended 
by  his  royal  allies,  Durstus  the  Pict  and  Dionethus  the 
Briton,  reside  during  their  huntings  in  Glenfinlass.  And 
here,  eight  hundred  years  ago,  did  the  same  glorious  prince 
form  plans  which  saved  his  kingdom  from  a  foreign  yoke. 
On  the  same  spot  we  will  lay  ours,  and  in  their  completion 
rescue  Scotland  from  a  tyranny  more  intolerable  than  that 
which  menaced  him.  Yes,  Murray ;  there  is  not  a  stone  in 
this  building  that  has  not  a  voice  which  calls  aloud  to  us  to 
draw  the  sword,  and  free  the  people  for  whom  that  illus- 
trious monarch  so  often  shed  his  blood." 

"  And  by  the  ghost  of  that  same  Fergus  I  swear,"  ex- 
claimed Murray,  "that  my  honest  claymore  shall  never 
shroud  its  head  while  an  invader  be  left  alive  in  Scotland  !  " 

Kirkpatrick  caught  him  in  his  arms :  "  Brave  son  of  the 
noble  Bothwell,  thou  art  after  mine  own  heart !  The  blow 
which  the  dastard  Cressingham  durst  aim  at  a  Scottish 
chief  still  smarts  upon  my  cheek,  and  rivers  of  his  country- 
men's blood  shall  wash  out  the  stain.  After  I  had  been 
persuaded  by  his  serpent  eloquence  to  swear  fealty  to  Ed- 


GLENFINLASS.  1 59 

ward  on  the  defeat  at  Dunbar,  I  vainly  thought  that  Scot- 
land had  only  changed  a  weak  and  unfortunate  prince  for 
a  wise  and  victorious  king.  But  when  in  the  courts  of 
Stirling  I  heard  Cressingham  propose  to  the  barons  north 
of  the  dyke  that  they  should  give  their  strongest  castles 
into  English  hands ;  when  I  opposed  the  measure  with  all 
the  indignation  of  a  Scot  who  saw  himself  betrayed,  —  he 
first  tried  to  overturn  my  arguments,  and  finding  that  im- 
possible, as  I  repeated  them  with  redoubled  force,  he  struck 
me !  Powers  of  earth  and  heaven,  what  was  then  the 
tempest  of  my  soul !  I  drew  my  sword,  and  would  have 
laid  him  dead  at  my  feet  had  not  my  obsequious  country- 
men held  my  arm  and  dragged  me  from  the  apartment. 

"  Covered  with  dishonor  by  a  blow  I  could  not  avenge, 
I  fled  to  my  brother-in-law,  Sir  John  Scott  of  Loch  Doine. 
With  him,  I  buried  my  injury  from  the  world ;  but  it  lived 
in  my  heart,  —  it  haunted  me  day  and  night,  calling  for 
revenge. 

"  In  such  an  hour,  how  did  I  receive  the  tidings  that  Sir 
William  Wallace  was  in  arms  against  the  tyrant !  It  was 
the  voice  of  retribution  calling  me  to  peace  of  mind  !  Even 
my  bedridden  kinsman  partook  my  emotions,  and  with  his 
zealous  concurrence  I  led  a  band  of  his  hardiest  clansmen 
to  reinforce  the  brave  men  of  Lanark  on  this  rock. 

"  Two  days  I  have  now  been  here,  awaiting  in  anxious 
impatience  the  arrival  of  Wallace.  Oh,  we  will  mingle  our 
injured  souls  together,  and  at  that  moment  set  forth  to 
Stirling ;  and  there,  in  the  very  heart  of  his  den,  we  will 
sacrifice  the  tiger  Cressingham  to  the  fate  he  merits  !  " 

"  But  what,  my  brave  friend,"  asked  Murray,  "  are  the 
forces  you  deem  sufiicient  for  so  great  an  enterprise  ?  How 
many  fighting  men  remain  of  Wallace's  own  company, 
besides  your  own  ?  " 

"  About  a  hundred,"  replied  Kirkpatrick,  "  including 
yours." 

"  Then  how  inadequate  will  be  our  whole  strength  to 
storm  so  formidable  a  place  as  Stirling  castle!  Having 
passed  the  Rubicon,  we  must  go  forward ;  but  resolution, 
not  rashness,  must  be  the  principle  of  our  proceedings. 
And  my  opinion  is  that  a  few  minor  advantages  obtained, 
our  countrymen  would  flock  to  our  standard,  the  enemy 


l60  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

would  be  intimidated,  and  we  should  carry  thousands  in- 
stead of  hundreds  before  the  walls  of  Stirling.  To  attempt 
it  now  would  invite  defeat,  and  pluck  upon  us  the  ruin  of 
our  project." 

"  You  are  right,  young  man,"  cried  Kirkpatrick ;  "  my 
gray  head,  forgetting  its  experience  and  rendered  impetu- 
ous by  insult,  did  not  see  the  blind  temerity  of  my  scheme. 
I  would  rather  for  years  watch  the  opportunity  of  taking  a 
signal  revenge  than  not  accomplish  it  at  last.  Oh,  I  would 
rather  waste  all  my  life  in  these  solitary  wilds,  and  know 
that  at  the  close  of  it  I  should  see  the  blood  of  Cres- 
singham  on  these  hands,  than  live  a  prince  and  die 
unrevenged  !  " 

Stephen  and  Ker  now  entered.  The  latter  paid  his 
respects  to  Sir  Roger;  and  the  former  informed  Murray 
that  having  disposed  of  his  present  followers  with  those 
who  had  arrived  before,  he  was  come  to  lead  him  to  share 
some  refreshment  in  the  banqueting-room  of  the  tower. 

"  What !  "  cried  Murray,  full  of  glad  amazement,  "  is  it 
possible  that  my  cousin  Helen's  troop  have  reached  their 
destination  ?  None  other  belonging  to  Bothwell  castle  had 
any  chance  of  escaping  their  jailer's  hands." 

Kirkpatrick  interrupted  Stephen's  reply  by  telling  Murray 
that  while  he  and  Ker  were  at  the  board  he  himself  would 
watch  the  arrival  of  certain  expresses  from  two  brave 
Drummonds,  who  were  each  to  send  him  a  hundred  men. 
"  So,  my  good  Lord  Andrew,"  cried  he,  striking  him  on  the 
shoulder,  "shall  the  snowball  gather  that  is  to  fall  on 
Edward  to  his  destruction  !  " 

Murray  approved  his  zeal,  and  bidding  him  a  short  adieu, 
followed  Stephen  and  Ker  into  the  hall.  A  haunch  of  ven- 
ison of  Glenfinlass  smoked  on  the  board ;  and  goblets  of 
wine  from  the  bounteous  cellars  of  Sir  John  Scott  bright- 
ened the  hopes  which  glowed  in  every  heart. 

While  the  young  chieftains  were  recruiting  their  ex- 
hausted strength,  Stephen  sat  at  the  table  to  satisfy  the 
anxiety  of  Murray  to  know  how  the  detachment  from  Both- 
well  had  come  to  Craignacoheilg,  and  by  what  fortunate 
occurrence  or  signal  act  of  bravery  Wallace  could  have 
escaped  with  his  whole  train  from  the  foe-surrounded 
Cartlane  craigs. 


GL  ENFINLASS.  l6 1 

"  Heaven  smiled  on  us  !  "  replied  Stephen.  "  The  very 
evening  of  the  day  in  which  Ker  left  us,  there  was  a 
carousal  in  the  English  camp.  We  heard  the  sound  of  the 
song  and  of  riot,  and  of  many  an  insult  cast  upon  our 
besieged  selves.  About  an  hour  after  sunset  the  noise 
sunk  by  degrees,  and  seemed  to  intimate  that  the  revellers 
overcome  by  excess  had  fallen  asleep.  At  this  very  time, 
owing  to  the  heat  of  the  day,  so  great  a  vapor  had  been 
exhaled  from  the  lake  beneath  that  the  whole  of  the 
northern  side  of  the  fortress-cliff  was  covered  with  a  mist 
so  exceedingly  thick  we  could  not  discern  each  other  at  a 
foot's  distance.  '  Now  is  the  moment,'  said  our  gallant 
leader.  '  The  enemy  are  stupefied  with  wine,  the  rock  is 
clothed  in  a  veil.  It  is  the  shield  of  God  that  is  held  be- 
fore us ;  under  its  shelter  let  us  pass  from  their  hands  ! ' 

*'  He  called  us  together,  and  making  the  proper  disposi- 
tions, commanded  the  children  and  women,  on  their  lives, 
to  keep  silence.  He  then  led  us  to  the  top  of  the  northern 
cliff ;  it  overhung  a  cave,  and  also  a  strong  guard  of  the 
enemy.  By  the  assistance  of  a  rope  held  above  by  several 
men,  our  resolute  chief,  twisting  it  round  one  arm  to  steady 
him,  and  with  the  other  catching  by  the  projecting  stones 
of  the  precipice,  made  his  way  down  the  rock  and  was  the 
first  who  descended.  He  stood  at  the  bottom,  enveloped 
in  the  cloud  which  shrouded  the  mountain,  till  all  the  men 
of  the  first  division  had  cleared  the  height ;  he  then  mar- 
shalled them  with  their  pikes  towards  the  foe,  in  case  of  an 
alarm.  But  all  remained  quiet  on  that  spot,  —  although 
the  sounds  of  voices,  both  in  song  and  laughter,  intimated 
that  the  utmost  precaution  was  necessary,  as  a  wakeful  part 
of  the  enemy  was  not  far  distant. 

"  Wallace  reascended  the  rock  half-way ;  and  receiving 
the  children,  which  their  trembling  mothers  lowered  into 
his  arms,  he  handed  them  to  the  old  men,  who  carried  them 
safely  through  the  bushes  which  obscured  the  cave's  mouth. 
The  rest  of  our  little  garrison  soon  followed ;  and  our  sen- 
tinels, receiving  the  signal  that  all  were  safe,  drew  silently 
from  their  guard,  and  closed  our  march  through  the  cavern. 

"  This  effected,  we  blocked  up  its  mouth,  that  should  our 
escape  be  discovered,  the  enemy  might  not  find  the  direct 
road  we  had  taken. 

VOL.    I. —  II 


1 62  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

"  We  pursued  our  course  without  stop  or  stay  till  we 
reached  the  hospitable  valleys  of  Stirlingshire.  Here  some 
kind  shepherds  gave  the  women  and  children  temporary 
shelter;  and  Wallace,  seeing  that  if  anything  were  to  be 
done  for  Scotland,  he  must  swell  his  host,  put  the  party 
under  my  guidance,  giving  me  orders  that  when  they  were 
rested  I  should  march  them  to  Glenfinlass,  here  to  await 
his  return.  Selecting  ten  men,  with  that  small  band  he 
turned  towards  the  Forth,  hoping  to  meet  some  valiant 
friends  in  that  part  of  the  country,  ready  to  embrace  her 
cause. 

"  He  had  hardly  been  an  hour  departed  when  Dugald 
observed  a  procession  of  monks  descending  the  opposite 
mountain.  They  drew  near,  and  halted  in  the  glen.  A 
crowd  of  women  from  the  neighboring  hills  had  followed 
the  train,  and  were  now  gathered  round  a  bier  which  the 
monks  had  set  down.  I  know  not  by  what  happy  fortune 
I  came  close  to  the  leader  of  the  procession,  but  he  saw 
something  in  my  old  rough  features  that  declared  me  to  be 
an  honest  Scot.  '  Friend,'  whispered  he,  '  for  charity  con- 
duct us  to  some  safe  place  where  we  may  withdraw  this 
bier  from  the  sacrilegious  eye  of  curiosity.' 

"  I  made  no  hesitation,  but  desired  the  train  to  follow  me 
into  a  byre  belonging  to  the  good  shepherd  who  was  my 
host.  On  this  motion  the  common  people  went  away,  and 
the  monks  entered  the  place. 

"When  the  travellers  threw  up  their  hoods,  which  as 
mourners  they  had  worn  over  their  faces,  I  could  not  help 
exclaiming, '  Alas  for  the  glory  of  Scotland,  that  this  goodly 
group  of  stout  young  men  rather  wore  the  helmet  than  the 
cowl ! '  — '  How  ? '  asked  their  principal,  who  did  not  appear 
to  have  seen  thirty  years,  '  do  we  not  pray  for  the  glory  of 
Scotland?  Such  is  our  weapon.'  — '  True,' replied  I,  'but 
while  Moses  prayed,  Joshua  fought.  God  gives  the  means 
of  glory  that  they  should  be  used.'  — '  But  for  what,  old 
veteran,'  said  the  monk,  with  a  penetrating  look,  '  should 
we  exchange  our  cowl  for  the  helmet  ?  Knowest  thou  any- 
thing of  the  Joshua  that  would  lead  us  to  the  field  .^' 
There  was  something  in  the  young  priest's  eyes  which 
seemed  to  contradict  his  pacific  words;  they  flashed  an 
impetuous  fire.     My  reply  was  short :  '  Are  you  a  Scot  ? ' 


GLENFINLASS.  1 63 

—  *  I  am,  in  soul  and  in  arms.'  — '  Then  knowest  thou  not 
the  chief  of  Ellerslie  ? '  As  I  spoke,  for  I  stood  close  to 
the  bier,  I  perceived  the  pall  shake.  The  monk  answered 
my  last  question  with  an  exclamation,  '  You  mean  Sir 
William  Wallace  ! '  '  Yes ! '  I  replied.  The  bier  shook 
more  violently  at  these  words,  and  with  my  hair  bristling 
from  my  head  I  saw  the  pall  hastily  thrown  off,  and  a 
beautiful  youth  in  a  shroud  start  from  it,  crying  aloud, 
'  Then  is  our  pilgrimage  at  an  end  !     Lead  us  to  him  ! ' 

"  The  monk  perceived  my  terror,  and  hastily  exclaimed, 
'  Fear  not !  he  is  alive,  and  seeks  Sir  William  Wallace. 
His  pretended  death  was  a  stratagem  to  insure  our  passage 
through  the  English  army,  for  we  are  soldiers  like  yourself.' 
As  he  spoke  he  opened  his  gray  habit,  and  showed  me  the 
mailed  tartans  beneath." 

"  What,  then  !  "  interrupted  Murray,  "  these  monks  were 
my  faithful  clansmen  ?  " 

"  The  same,"  replied  Stephen.  "  I  assured  them  they 
might  now  resume  their  own  characters ;  for  all  who  in- 
habited the  valley  we  were  then  in  were  true  though  poor 
and  aged  Scots.  The  young  had  long  been  drafted  by 
Edward's  agents  to  fight  his  battles  abroad. 

"  '  Ah  ! '  interrupted  the  shrouded  youth, '  are  we  a  people 
that  can  die  for  the  honor  of  this  usurper,  and  are  we  igno- 
rant how  to  do  it  for  our  country  ?  Lead  us,  soldier  of 
Wallace,'  cried  he,  stepping  resolutely  on  the  ground,  '  lead 
us  to  your  brave  master ;  and  tell  him  that  a  few  deter- 
mined men  are  come  to  shed  their  blood  for  him  and 
Scotland.' 

"  This  astonishing  youth  —  for  he  did  not  appear  to  be 
more  than  fifteen  —  stood  before  me  in  his  robes  of  death 
like  the  spirit  of  some  bright-haired  son  of  Fingal.  I  looked 
on  him  with  admiration,  and  explaining  our  situation,  told 
him  whither  Wallace  was  gone,  and  of  our  destination  to 
await  him  in  the  forest  of  Glenfinlass. 

"  While  your  brave  clansmen  were  refreshing  themselves, 
we  learned  from  Kenneth,  their  conductor,  that  the  troop  left 
Bothwell  under  an  expectation  of  your  soon  following  them. 
They  had  not  proceeded  far  before  their  scouts  perceived 
the  outposts  of  the  English  which  surrounded  Cartlane 
craigs ;  to  avoid  this  danger  they  took  a  circuitous  path,  in 


1 64  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS.       - 

hope  of  finding  some  unguarded  entrance.  They  reached 
the  convent  of  St.  Columba,  at  the  western  side  of  the 
craigs.  Kenneth  knew  the  abbot ;  and  entering  it  under 
covert  of  the  night,  he  obtained  permission  for  his  men  to 
rest  there.  The  youth,  now  their  companion,  was  a  student 
in  the  Church.  He  had  been  sent  thither  by  his  mother,  a 
pious  lady,  in  the  hope  that,  as  he  is  of  a  very  gentle  nature, 
he  would  attach  himself  to  the  sacred  tonsure.  But  cour- 
age often  springs  with  most  strength  in  the  softest  frames. 

" '  The  moment  this  youth  discovered  our  errand,'  said 
Kenneth,  '  he  tried  every  persuasive  to  prevail  on  the  abbot 
to  permit  him  to  accompany  us.  But  his  entreaties  were 
vain,  till  wrought  up  to  vehement  anger  he  threatened  that 
if  he  were  prevented  joining  Sir  William  Wallace,  he  would 
take  the  earliest  opportunity  to  escape,  and  commit  himself 
to  the  peril  of  the  English  pikes. 

" '  Seeing  him  determined,'  continued  Kenneth, '  the  abbot 
granted  his  wish.  And  then  it  was,  that  the  youth  seemed 
inspired.  It  was  no  longer  an  enthusiastic  boy  we  saw  be- 
fore us,  but  an  angel  gifted  with  wisdom  to  direct  and  en- 
terprise to  lead  us.  It  was  he  proposed  disguising  our- 
selves as  a  funeral  procession ;  and  while  he  painted  his 
blooming  countenance  of  a  deathlike  paleness  and  stretched 
himself  on  the  bier,  the  abbot  sent  to  the  English  army  to 
request  permission  for  a  party  of  monks  to  cross  the  craigs 
to  the  cave  of  St.  Columba  in  Stirlingshire,  whither  they 
carried  a  dead  brother  to  be  entombed.  Our  young  leader 
hoped  we  might  thus  find  an  opportunity  to  apprise  Wal- 
lace we  were  friends,  and  ready  to  reinforce  his  exhausted 
garrison. 

"  '  On  our  entrance  into  the  passes  of  the  craigs,  the  Eng- 
lish commander  mentioned  the  fate  of  Bothwell  and  the 
captivity  of  Lord  Mar  ;  and  with  very  Uttle  courtesy  to 
sons  of  the  Church,  he  ordered  the  bier  to  be  opened  to 
see  whether  it  did  really  contain  a  corpse,  or  provisions  for 
our  besieged  countrymen.  We  had  certainly  expected  this 
investigation;  else  we  might  as  well  have  wrapped  the 
trunk  of  a  tree  in  the  shroud  we  carried  as  a  human  being. 
We  knew  that  the  superstitious  hatred  of  the  Southrons 
would  not  allow  them  to  touch  a  Scottish  corpse,  and  there- 
fore we  feared  no  detection  from  the  eye's  examination 


GLEiYFINLASS.  1 65 

alone.  This  ceremony  once  over,  we  expected  to  have 
passed  on  without  further  notice ;  and  in  that  case  the 
youth  would  have  left  his  pall,  and  performed  the  remain- 
der of  his  journey  in  a  similar  disguise  with  the  rest.  But 
the  strict  watch  of  an  English  guard  confined  him  wholly  to 
the  bier.  In  hope  of  at  last  evading  this  vigilance,  on 
pretence  of  a  vow  of  the  deceased  that  his  bearers  should 
perform  a  pilgrimage  throughout  the  craigs,  we  traversed 
them  in  every  direction ;  and  I  make  no  doubt  we  should 
have  finally  wearied  out  our  guard,  and  gained  our  point, 
had  not  the  circumstance  transpired  of  Wallace's  escape. 

" '  How  he  had  effected  it,  his  enemies  could  not  guess. 
Not  a  man  of  the  besiegers  was  missing  from  his  post,  and 
not  an  avenue  appeared  by  which  they  could  trace  his 
flight;  but  gone  he  was,  and  with  him  his  whole  train.  On 
this  disappointment  the  Southrons  retired  to  Glasgow  to 
their  commander-in-chief,  to  give  as  good  an  account  as 
they  could  of  so  disgraceful  a  termination  of  their  siege. 
Dismayed  at  this  intelligence,  the  guard  hurried  us  into 
Stirlingshire  and  left  us  at  the  other  side  of  the  mountain. 
But  even  then  we  were  not  free  to  release  our  charge,  for 
attracted  by  our  procession  the  country  people  followed  us 
into  the  valley.  Had  we  not  met  with  you,  it  was  our 
young  chief's  design  to  have  thrown  off  our  disguises  in  the 
first  safe  place,  and,  divided  into  small  bands,  to  have  sev- 
erally sought  Sir  William  Wallace.'  " 

"  But  where,"  demanded  Murray,  who  had  listened  with 
delighted  astonishment  to  this  recital,  "  where  is  this  admir- 
able youth?  Why,  if  Kenneth  have  learned  that  I  am 
arrived,  does  he  not  bring  him  to  receive  my  thanks  and 
friendship .? " 

"It  is  my  fault,"  returned  Stephen,  "that  Kenneth  will 
not  approach  you  till  your  repast  is  over.  I  left  him  to  see 
your  followers  properly  refreshed.  As  for  the  youth,  he 
seems  timid  of  appearing  before  you.  Even  his  name  I 
cannot  make  known  to  you,  till  he  reveals  it  himself ;  none 
know  him  here  by  any  other  than  that  of  Edwin.  He  has 
mentioned  to-morrow  morning  for  the  interview." 

"  I  must  submit  to  his  determination,"  replied  Murray, 
"  but  I  am  at  a  loss  to  guess  why  so  brave  a  creature  should 
hesitate  to  meet  me.     I  can  only  suppose  he  dislikes  the 


1 66  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

idea  of  resigning  the  troop  he  has  so  well  conducted  ;  and 
if  so,  I  shall  think  it  my  duty  to  yield  to  him  the  command." 

"  Indeed  he  richly  deserves  it,"  returned  Stephen,  "  for  the 
very  soul  of  Wallace  seemed  transfused  into  his  breast  as 
he  cheered  us  through  our  long  march  from  the  valley  to 
Glenfinlass.  He  played  with  the  children,  heartened  up  the 
women ;  and  when  the  men  were  weary  and  lagged  by  the 
way,  he  sat  down  on  the  nearest  stone  and  sang  to  us 
legends  of  our  ancestors  till  every  nerve  was  braced  with 
warlike  emulation,  and  starting  up,  we  proceeded  onward 
with  resolution  and  even  gayety. 

"  When  we  arrived  at  Craignacoheilg,  as  the  women  were 
in  great  want,  I  suddenly  recollected  that  I  had  an  old 
friend  in  the  neighborhood.  When  a  boy  I  had  been  the 
playfellow  of  Sir  John  Scott  of  Loch  Doine,  and  though  I 
understood  he  was  an  invalid,  I  went  to  him.  While  I  told 
my  tale,  his  brother-in-law.  Sir  Roger  Kirkpatrick,  who  sat 
by  his  pillow,  took  fire  at  my  description  of  the  patriotic 
valor  of  my  master,  and  declared  his  determination  to  ac- 
company me  to  Craignacoheilg.  When  he  joined  the  troop 
on  the  summit  of  this  rock  he  embraced  them  separately, 
hailing  the  men  as  brethren  and  the  women  as  sisters.  He 
took  the  children  in  his  arms,  and  while  he  held  their  hands 
in  his,  he  said  to  their  mothers,  '  Let  not  this  right  hand  be 
baptized  ^  till  it  has  been  bathed  in  the  blood  of  the  foe ; 
for  mercy  belongs  not  to  the  enemy  who  is  now  doomed  to 
fall  beneath  our  swords ! '  " 

"It  is  indeed  a  deadly  contest!"  rejoined  Murray,  "for 
evil  has  been  the  example  of  that  foe.  How  many  innocent 
bosoms  have  their  steel  pierced  !  How  many  helpless  babes 
have  their  merciless  hands  dashed  against  the  stones !  O 
ruthless  war !  even  a  soldier  trembles  to  contemplate  thy 
horrors  !  " 

"  Only  till  he  can  avenge  them  !  "  cried  a  stern  voice,  en- 
tering the  apartment.     It  was  Kirkpatrick's,  and  he  pro- 

1  It  was  a  custom  with  Scottish  chiefs,  when  any  feud  existed  between 
their  families,  to  leave  the  right  hand  of  their  children  untouched  by  the 
holy  water  in  baptism,  as  a  sign  that  no  law,  even  of  Heaven,  should 
prevent  them  taking  revenge.  From  this  usage  Kirkpatrick  declares 
that  the  hands  of  the  children  in  Wallace's  train  shall  be  left  unchristened 
till  they  have  taken  vengeance  on  their  oppressors. 


CRA IGNA  COHEIL  G.  1 6  / 

ceeded  :  "  When  vengeance  is  in  our  grasp,  tell  me,  brave 
Murray,  who  will  then  tremble?  Dost  thou  not  feel  retri- 
bution in  thine  own  hands  ?  Dost  thou  not  see  the  tyrant's 
blood  at  thy  feet  ? "  As  he  spoke,  he  looked  down  with  a 
horrid  exultation  in  his  eyes ;  and  bursting  into  a  more  hor- 
rible laugh,  struck  his  hand  several  times  on  his  heart;  "  It 
glads  me !  it  glads  me !  I  shall  see  it,  and  this  arm  shall 
assist  to  pull  him  down." 

"  His  power  in  Scotland  may  fall,"  returned  Murray, 
"  but  I  fear  that  Edward  will  be  too  careful  of  his  life  to 
come  within  reach  of  our  steel." 

"That  may  be,"  rejoined  Kirkpatrick,  "but  my  dagger 
shall  yet  drink  the  blood  of  his  agents.  Cressingham 
shall  feel  my  foot  upon  his  neck  !  Cressingham  shall  see 
that  hand  torn  from  its  wrist  which  durst  violate  the 
unsullied  cheek  of  a  true  Scotsman.  Murray,  I  cannot 
live   unrevenged." 

As  he  spoke  he  quitted  the  apartment  with  a  countenance 
of  such  tremendous  fate  that  the  young  warrior  doubted  it 
was  human ;  it  spoke  not  the  noble  resolves  of  patriotism, 
but  the  portentous  malignity  with  which  the  great  adver- 
sary of  mankind  determines  the  ruin  of  nations.  It  seemed 
to  wither  the  grass  as  he  moved,  and  Murray  almost 
thought  that  the  clouds  darkened  as  the  gloomy  knight 
issued  from  the  porch  into  the  open  air. 

Kenneth  Mackenzie  joyfully  entered  the  hall.  Murray 
received  him  with  a  warm  embrace  ;  and  soon  after  Stephen 
Ireland  led  the  wearied  chieftain  to  a  bed  of  freshly  gathered 
heath,  prepared  for  him  in  an  upper  chamber. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

CRAIGNACOHEILG. 

SLEEP,  the  gentle  sister  of  that  awful  power  which 
shrouds  us  in  her  cold  bosom,  and  bears  us  in  still 
repose  to  the  blissful  wakefulness  of  eternal  life,  —  she. 
sweet  restorer  !  wraps  us  in  her  balmy  embraces,  and  ex- 


1 68  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

tracting  from  our  wearied  limbs  the  effects  of  every  toil, 
safely  relinquishes  us  at  morn  to  the  new-born  vigor  that  is 
her  gift,  to  the  gladsome  breezes  which  call  us  forth  to 
labor  and  enjoyment. 

Such  was  the  rest  of  the  youthful  Murray,  till  the  shrill 
notes  of  a  hundred  bugles,  piercing  his  ear,  made  him 
start.  He  listened :  they  sounded  again.  The  morning 
had  fully  broken.  He  sprung  from  his  couch,  hurried  on 
his  armor,  and  snatching  up  his  lance  and  target  issued 
from  the  tower.  Several  women  were  flying  past  the  gate. 
On  seeing  him  they  exclaimed  :  "  The  Lord  Wallace  is 
arrived !  His  bugles  have  sounded ;  our  husbands  are 
returned ! " 

Murray  followed  their  eager  footsteps,  and  reached  the 
edge  of  the  rock  just  as  the  brave  group  were  ascending. 
A  stranger  was  also  there,  whom  from  his  extreme  youth 
and  elegance  he  judged  must  be  the  young  protector  of  his 
clansmen ;  but  he  forbore  to  address  him  until  they  should 
be  presented  to  each  other  by  Wallace  himself. 

It  was  indeed  the  same.  On  hearing  the  first  blast  of 
the  horn,  the  youthful  chieftain  had  started  from  his  bed  of 
heath,  and  buckling  on  his  brigandine  rushed  to  the  rock. 
But  at  sight  of  the  noble  figure  which  first  gained  the  sum- 
mit, the  young  hero  fell  back ;  an  indescribable  awe  checked 
his  steps,  and  he  stood  at  a  distance  while  Kirkpatrick  wel- 
comed the  chief  and  introduced  Lord  Andrew  Murray. 
Wallace  received  the  latter  with  a  glad  smile ;  and  taking 
him  warmly  by  the  hand,  "  My  gallant  friend,"  said  he, 
"  with  such  assistance  I  hope  to  reinstate  your  brave  uncle 
in  Bothwell  castle,  and  soon  to  cut  a  passage  to  even  a 
mightier  rescue !  We  must  carry  off  Scotland  from  the 
tyrant's  arms ;  or,"  added  he  in  a  graver  tone,  "  we  shall 
only  rivet  her  chains  the  closer." 

"  I  am  but  a  poor  auxiliary,"  returned  Murray ;  "  my 
troop  is  a  scanty  one,  for  it  is  of  my  own  gathering.  It  is 
not  my  father's  nor  my  uncle's  strength  that  I  bring  along 
with  me.  But  there  is  one  here,"  continued  he,  "  who  has 
preserved  a  party  of  men  sent  by  my  cousin,  Lady  Helen 
Mar,  almost  double  my  numbers." 

At  this  reference  to  the  youthful  warrior,  Sir  Roger  Kirk- 
patrick discerned  him  at  a  distance,  and  hastened  towards 


CRAIGNACOHEILG.  1 69 

him,  while  Murray  briefly  related  to  Wallace  the  extraordi- 
nary conduct  of  this  unknown.  On  being  told  that  the 
chief  waited  to  receive  him,  the  young  man  hastened  for- 
ward with  a  trepidation  he  never  had  felt  before.  But  it 
was  a  trepidation  that  did  not  subtract  from  his  own  worth ; 
it  was  the  timidity  of  a  noble  heart  which  believed  it  ap- 
proached one  of  the  most  perfect  among  mortals ;  and 
while  its  anxious  pulse  beat  to  emulate  such  merit,  a  gener- 
ous consciousness  of  measureless  inferiority  embarrassed 
him  with  a  confusion  so  amiable  that  Wallace,  who  perceived 
his  extreme  youth  and  his  blushes,  opened  his  amis  and 
embraced  him.  "  Brave  youth  !  "  cried  he,  "  I  trust  that  the 
Power  which  blesses  our  cause  will  enable  me  to  return 
you  with  many  a  well  earned  glory  to  the  bosom  of  your 
family ! " 

Edwin  was  encouraged  by  the  frank  address  of  a  hero 
whom  he  expected  to  have  found  reserved  and  wrapped  in 
the  deepest  glooms  of  the  fate  which  had  roused  him  to  be 
the  thunderbolt  of  Heaven ;  and  when  he  saw  a  benign 
though  pale  countenance  hail  him  with  smiles,  he  made  a 
strong  effort  to  shake  off  the  awe  with  which  the  divine 
dignity  of  the  figure  and  mien  of  Wallace  had  oppressed 
him,  and  with  a  still  more  mantling  blush  he  replied  :  "  My 
family  are  worthy  of  your  esteem.  My  father  is  brave ; 
but  my  mother,  fearing  for  me,  her  favorite  son,  prevailed 
on  him  to  put  me  into  a  monastery.  Dreading  the  power 
of  the  English  even  there,  she  allowed  none  but  the  abbot 
to  know  who  I  was ;  and  as  she  chose  to  hide  my  name, 
and  I  have  burst  from  my  concealment  without  her  knowl- 
edge, till  I  do  something  worthy  of  that  name  and  deserving 
her  pardon,  permit  me,  noble  Wallace,  to  follow  your 
footsteps  with  the  simple  appellation  of  Edwin." 

"Noble  boy!"  returned  the  chief,  "your  wish  shall  be 
respected.  We  urge  you  no  further  to  reveal  what  such 
innate  bravery  must  shortly  proclaim  in  the  most  honorable 
manner." 

The  whole  of  the  troop  having  ascended,  while  their 
wives,  children,  and  friends  were  rejoicing  in  their  embraces, 
Wallace  asked  some  questions  relative  to  Bothwell,  and 
Murray  briefly  related  the  disasters  which  had  happened 
there. 


I/O  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

"  My  father,"  added  he,  "  is  still  with  the  Lord  of  Loch- 
awe,  and  thither  I  sent  to  request  him  to  dispatch  to  the 
Cartlane  craigs  all  the  followers  he  took  with  him  into 
Argj'leshire.  But  as  things  are,  would  it  not  be  well  to  send 
a  messenger  to  Kilchurn  castle,  to  say  that  you  have  sought 
refuge  in  Glenfinlass." 

"  Before  he  could  arrive,"  returned  Wallace,  "  I  hope 
we  shall  be  where  Lord  Bothwell's  reinforcements  may 
reach  us  by  water.  Our  present  object  must  be  the  Earl 
of  Mar.  He  is  the  first  Scottish  earl  who  has  hazarded 
his  estates  and  life  for  Scotland;  and  as  her  best  friend, 
his  liberation  must  be  our  first  enterprise.  In  my  circuit 
through  two  or  three  eastern  counties,  a  promising  in- 
crease has  been  made  to  our  little  army.  The  Erasers 
of  Oliver  castle  have  given  me  two  hundred  men ;  and 
the  brave  Sir  Alexander  Scrymgeour,  whom  I  met  in 
West  Lothian,  has  not  only  brought  fifty  stout  Scots  to 
my  command,  but,  as  the  hereditary  standard-bearer  ^  of 
the  kingdom,  has  come  himself,  to  carry  the  royal  banner 
of  Scotland  to  glor}'-  or  oblivion." 

"  To  glory !  "  cried  Murray,  waving  his  sword.  "  Oh, 
not  while  a  Scot  survives  shall  that  golden  lion  ^  again 
lick  the  dust!" 

"  No,"  cried  Kirkpatrick,  his  eyes  flashing  fire ;  "  rather 

1  This  Sir  Alexander  Scrymgeour  was  the  descendant  of  the  two 
renowned  knights  of  that  name  who  signalized  themselves  by  similar  acts 
of  bravery  in  the  reigns  of  Malcolm  111.  and  Alexander  I.  Their  name 
was  originally  Carron,  and  the  reason  of  its  change  is  thus  recorded : 
During  a  rebellion  of  Malcolm  III.'s  northern  subjects,  that  monarch 
was  dangerously  beset  by  them  on  the  banks  of  the  Spey.  It  was  neces- 
sary he  should  cross  the  river,  which  was  perilous  in  its  current,  and  a 
strong  body  of  the  enemy  lined  the  opposite  shore  to  prevent  his  landing. 
The  standard-bearer  of  the  royal  army,  at  sight  of  these  dangers,  made  a 
halt.  The  king  in  displeasure  snatched  the  standard  from  his  hand,  and 
gave  it  to  Sir  Alexander  Carron,  who  immediately  plunged  into  the  river, 
and  swimming  to  the  other  side,  performed  prodigies  of  valor  amongst 
the  rebels.  For  this  service  Malcolm  gave  to  him  and  his  posterity  the 
name  of  Scrymgeour  (sharp  fight),  and  made  him  the  royal  standard-bearer 
in  the  Scottish  army.  This  post  was  made  hereditary  in  the  family  by 
Alexander  I.,  to  reward  the  son  of  the  first  of  the  name  of  Scrymgeour 
for  an  action  of  similar  loyalty.  Sir  Alexander  Scrymgeour,  the  descend- 
ant of  these  heroes,  and  the  friend  of  Sir  William  Wallace,  proved  himself 
in  every  way  worthy  of  his  ancestors. 

2  A  lion  gules,  in  a  field  d'or,  is  the  arms  of  Scotland. 


CRAIGNA  COHEIL  G.  1 7 1 

may  every  Scot  and  every  Southron  fall  in  the  struggle, 
and  fill  one  grave  !  Let  me,"  cried  he,  sternly  grasping  the 
hilt  of  his  sword,  and  looking  upwards,  "let  me,  O  Saviour 
of  mankind,  live  but  to  see  the  Forth  and  the  Clyde,  so 
often  reddened  with  our  blood,  dye  the  eastern  and  the 
western  oceans  with  the  vital  flood  of  these  our  foes,  —  and 
when  none  is  spared,  then  let  me  die  in  peace." 

The  eyes  of  Wallace  glanced  on  the  young  Edwin,  who 
stood  gazing  on  Kirkpatrick;  and  turning  on  the  knight 
with  a  powerful  look  of  reprehension,  "  Check  that  prayer  !  " 
cried  he.  "  Remember,  my  brave  companion,  what  the 
Saviour  of  mankind  was,  and  then  think  whether  he  who 
offered  life  to  all  the  world  will  listen  to  so  damning  an 
invocation.  If  we  would  be  blessed  in  the  contest,  we  must 
be  merciful." 

"  To  whom  ? "  exclaimed  Kirkpatrick ;  "  to  the  robbers 
who  tear  from  us  our  lands,  to  the  ruffians  who  wrest  from 
us  our  honors  ?  But  you  are  patient ;  you  never  received  a 
blow  ! " 

"  Yes,"  cried  Wallace,  turning  paler ;  "  a  heavy  one,  on 
my  heart ! " 

"  True,"  returned  Kirkpatrick ;  "  your  wife  fell  under  the 
steel  of  a  Southron  governor,  and  you  slew  him  for  it !  You 
were  revenged,  your  feelings  were  appeased." 

"  Not  the  death  of  fifty  thousand  governors,"  replied 
Wallace,  "  could  appease  my  feelings.  Revenge  were  in- 
sufficient to  satisfy  the  yearnings  of  my  soul."  For  a  mo- 
ment he  covered  his  agitated  features  with  his  hand,  and 
then  proceeded :  "  I  slew  Heselrigge  because  he  was  a 
monster  under  whom  the  earth  groaned.  My  sorrow,  deep, 
deep  as  it  was,  was  but  one  of  many  which  his  rapacity  and 
his  nephew's  licentiousness  had  produced.  Both  fell  be- 
neath my  arm ;  but  I  do  not  denounce  the  whole  nation 
without  reserve  !  When  the  sword  of  war  is  drawn,  all  who 
resist  must  conquer  or  fall.  But  there  are  some  noble  Eng- 
lish, who  abhor  the  tyranny  they  are  obliged  to  exercise 
over  us ;  and  when  they  declare  such  remorse,  shall  they 
not  find  mercy  at  our  hands  ?  Surely,  if  not  for  humanity, 
for  policy's  sake  we  ought  to  give  quarter ;  for  the  exter- 
minating sword,  if  not  always  victorious,  incurs  the  ruin  it 
threatens.     I  even  hope  that  by  our  righteous  cause  and 


1/2  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

our  clemency  we  shall  not  only  gather  our  own  people  to 
our  legions,  but  turn  the  hearts  of  the  poor  Welsh  and  the 
misled  Irish  whom  the  usurper  has  forced  into  his  armies, 
and  so  confront  him  with  troops  of  his  own  levying.  Many 
of  the  English  were  too  just  to  share  in  the  subjugation 
of  the  country  they  had  sworn  to  befriend.  And  their  less 
honorable  countrymen,  when  they  see  Scotsmen  no  longer 
consenting  to  their  own  degradation,  may  take  shame  to 
themselves  for  assisting  to  betray  a  confiding  people." 

"  That  may  be,"  returned  Kirkpatrick  ;  "  but  surely  you 
would  not  rank  Aymer  de  Valence,  who  lords  it  over  Dum- 
barton, and  Cressingham,  who  acts  the  tyrant  in  Stirling, 
—  you  would  not  rank  them  amongst  these  conscientious 
English  ? " 

"  No,"  replied  "Wallace  ;  "  the  haughty  oppression  of  the 
one  and  the  wanton  cruelty  of  the  other  have  given  Scot- 
land too  many  wounds  for  me  to  hold  a  shield  before  them. 
I  leave  them  to  your  sword." 

"  And  by  heavens ! "  cried  Kirkpatrick,  gnashing  his 
teeth  with  the  fury  of  a  tiger,  "  they  shall  know  its  point !  " 
Wallace  then  informed  his  friends  that  he  purposed 
marching  next  morning,  by  daybreak,  towards  Dumbarton 
castle.  "  When  we  make  the  attack,"  said  he,  "  it  must  be 
in  the  night ;  for  I  propose  seizing  by  storm." 

Murray  and  Kirkpatrick  joyfully  acquiesced.  Edwin 
smiled  an  enraptured  assent;  and  Wallace,  with  many  a 
gracious  look  and  speech,  disengaged  himself  from  the 
clinging  embraces  of  the  weaker  part  of  the  garrison,  who, 
seeing  in  him  the  spring  of  their  husbands'  might  and  the 
guard  of  their  own  safety,  clung  to  him  as  to  a  presiding 
deity. 

"You,  my  dear  countrywomen,"  said  he,  "shall  find  a 
home  for  your  aged  parents,  your  children,  and  yourselves, 
with  the  venerable  Sir  John  Scott  of  Loch  Doine.  You  are 
to  be  conducted  thither  this  evening,  and  there  await  in  com- 
fort the  happy  return  of  your  husbands,  whom  Providence 
now  leads  forth  to  be  the  champions  of  your  country." 

Filled  with  enthusiasm,  the  women  uttered  a  shout  of 
triumph,  and  embracing  their  husbands,  said  they  were 
ready  to  resign  them  wholly  to  Heaven  and  Sir  William 
Wallace. 


CLIFFS  OF  LOCH  L UBNAIG.  1 7 3 

Wallace  left  them  with  these  tender  relatives,  from  whom 
they  were  so  soon  to  part,  and  retired  with  his  chieftains  to 
arrange  the  plan  of  his  proposed  attack.  Delighted  with 
the  glory  which  seemed  to  wave  him  from  the  pinnacles  of 
Dumbarton  rock,  Edwin  listened  in  profound  silence  to  all 
that  was  said,  and  then  hastened  to  his  quarters  to  prepare 
his  armor  for  the  ensuing  morning. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

CLIFFS   OF   LOCH    LUBNAIG. 

IN  the  cool  of  the  evening,  while  the  young  chieftain  was 
thus  employed,  Kenneth  entered,  and  told  him  Sir 
William  Wallace  had  called  out  his  little  army  to  see  its 
strength  and  numbers.  Edwin's  soul  had  become  not  more 
enamoured  of  the  panoply  of  war  than  of  the  gracious 
smiles  of  his  admired  leader,  and  at  this  intelligence  he 
threw  his  plaid  over  his  brigandine,  and  placing  a  swan- 
plumed  bonnet  on  his  brows,  hastened  forth  to  meet  his 
general. 

The  heights  of  Craignacoheilg  echoed  with  thronging 
footsteps,  and  a  glittering  light  seemed  issuing  from  her 
woods  as  the  rays  of  the  descending  sun  glanced  on  the 
arms  of  her  assembling  warriors. 

The  thirty  followers  of  Murray  appeared,  just  as  the  two 
hundred  of  Eraser's  entered  from  an  opening  in  the  rocks. 
Blood  mounted  into  his  face  as  he  compared  his  inferior 
numbers,  and  recollected  the  obligation  they  were  to  repay 
and  the  greater  one  he  was  now  going  to  incur.  However 
he  threw  on  his  shoulder  the  standard,  worked  by  Helen, 
and  turning  to  Wallace,  "  Behold,"  said  he,  pointing  to 
his  men,  "the  poor  man's  mite!  It  is  great,  for  it  is  my 
all ! " 

"  Great  indeed,  brave  Murray  !  "  returned  Wallace,  "  for 
it  brings  me  a  host  in  yourself." 

"  I  will  not  disgrace  my  standard  !  "  said  he,  lowering  the 
banner-staff  to  Wallace.  He  started  when  he  saw  the  flow- 
ing lock,  which  he  could  not  help  recognizing.     "  This  is 


1/4  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

my  betrothed,"  continued  Murray  in  a  gayer  tone ;  "  I  have 
sworn  to  take  her,  —  for  better,  for  worse ;  and  I  pledge 
you  my  troth,  nothing  but  death  shall  part  us !  " 

Wallace  grasped  his  hand :  "  And  I  pledge  you  mine 
that  the  head  whence  it  "grew  shall  be  laid  low  before  I 
suffer  so  generous  a  defender  to  be  separated,  dead  or 
alive,  from  this  standard."  His  eye  glanced  at  the  impress. 
"  Thou  art  right,"  continued  he ;  "  God  doth  indeed  arm 
thee  ;  and  in  the  strength  of  a  righteous  cause  thou  goest 
with  the  confidence  of  success  to  embrace  victory  as  a 
bride  !  " 

"  No  ;  I  am  only  the  bridegroom's  man  !  "  replied  Mur- 
ray, gayly  moving  off ;  "I  shall  be  content  with  a  kiss  or 
two  from  the  handmaids,  and  leave  the  lady  for  my 
general." 

"  Happy,  happy  youth !  "  said  Wallace  to  himself,  as  his 
eye  pursued  the  agile  footsteps  of  the  young  chieftain. 
"  No  conquering  affection  has  yet  thrown  open  thy  heart ; 
no  deadly  injury  has  lacerated  it  with  wounds  incurable. 
Patriotism  is  a  virgin  passion  in  thy  breast,  and  innocence 
and  joy  wait  upon  her  !  " 

"  We  muster  just  five  hundred  men,"  said  Ker  to  Wal- 
lace ;  "  but  they  are  all  as  stout  in  heart  as  condition, 
and  ready  even  to-night,  if  you  will  it,  to  commence  their 
march." 

"  No,"  replied  Wallace,  "  we  must  not  overstrain  the 
generous  spirit.  Let  them  rest  to-night,  and  to-morrow's 
dawn  shall  light  us  through  the  forest." 

Ker,  who  acted  as  henchman  to  Wallace,  now  returned 
to  the  ranks  to  give  the  word ;  and  they  all  marched 
forward. 

Sir  Alexander  Scrymgeour,  with  his  golden  standard 
charged  with  the  lion  of  Scotland,  led  the  van.  Wallace 
raised  his  bonnet  from  his  head  as  it  drew  near.  Scrym- 
geour lowered  the  staff.  Wallace  threw  up  his  outstretched 
hand  at  this  action,  but  the  knight  not  understanding 
him,  he  stepped  forward.  "  Sir  Alexander  Scrymgeour," 
said  he,  "  that  standard  must  not  bow  to  me.  It  represents 
the  royalty  of  Scotland,  before  which  we  fight  for  her 
liberties.  If  virtue  yet  dwell  in  the  house  of  the  valiant 
Saint  David,  some  of  his  offspring  will  hear  of  this  day, 


CLIFFS  OF  LOCH  LUBNAIG.  1 75 

and  lead  it  forward  to  conquest  and  to  a  crown.  Till 
such  an  hour,  let  not  that  standard  bend  to  any  man." 

Wallace  fell  back  as  he  spoke  ;  and  Scrymgeour,  bow- 
ing his  head  in  sign  of  acquiescence,  marched  on. 

Sir  Roger  Kirkpatrick,  at  the  head  of  his  well-appointed 
Highlanders,  next  advanced.  His  blood-red  banner  streamed 
to  the  air ;  and  as  it  bent  to  Wallace,  he  saw  that  the  indig- 
nant knight  had  adopted  the  device  of  the  hardy  King 
Achaius,^  but  with  a  fiercer  motto,  "  Touch,  and  I  pierce  !  " 

"  That  man,"  thought  Wallace,  as  he  passed  along,  "  car- 
ries a  relentless  sword  in  his  very  eye  !  " 

The  men  of  Loch  Doine,  a  strong,  tall,  and  well  armed 
body,  marched  on,  and  gave  place  to  the  advancing  corps 
of  Bothwell.  The  eye  of  Wallace  felt  as  if  turning  from 
gloom  and  horror  to  the  cheerful  light  of  day  when  it  fell 
on  the  bright  and  ingenuous  face  of  Murray.  Kenneth 
with  his  troop  followed ;  and  the  youthful  Edwin,  like 
Cupid  in  arms,  closed  the  procession. 

Being  drawn  up  in  line,  their  chief,  fully  satisfied,  ad- 
vanced towards  them ;  and  expressing  his  sentiments  of 
the  patriotism  which  brought  them  into  the  field,  informed 
them  of  his  intended  march.  He  then  turned  to  Stephen 
Ireland  :  "  The  sun  has  now  set,"  said  he,  "  and  before 
dark  you  must  conduct  the  families  of  my  worthy  Lanark 
men  to  the  protection  of  Sir  John  Scott.  It  is  time  that 
age,  infancy,  and  female  weakness  should  cease  their  wan- 
derings with  us  ;  to-night  we  bid  them  adieu,  to  meet  them 
again  in  freedom  and  prosperity." 

As  Wallace  ceased,  and  was  retiring  from  the  ground, 
several  old  men,  and  young  women  with  their  babes  in  their 
arms,  rushed  from  behind  the  ranks,  and  throwing  them- 
selves at  his  feet,  caught  hold  of  his  hands  and  garments. 
"  We  go,"  said  the  venerable  fathers,  "  to  pray  for  your 
welfare.  And  sure  we  are  a  crown  will  bless  our  country's 
benefactor,  here  or  in  heaven !  " 

"  In  heaven,"  replied  Wallace,  shaking  the  plumes  of  his 

1  Achaius,  King  of  Scotland,  having  won  the  love  and  alliance  of 
Charlemagne  and  of  many  other  Christian  kings,  found  himself  to  be  so 
mighty  that  he  took  for  his  device  the  Thistle  and  Rue,  and  for  his 
motto,  "For  my  defence,"  —  the  Rue,  from  its  salutary  properties,  de- 
noting h'.s  wisdom  in  peace  ;  and  the  Thistle,  by  its  guardian  prickles, 
exemplifying  his  power  in  war. 


176  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

bonnet  over  his  eyes,  to  hide  the  moisture  which  suffused 
them ;  "  I  can  have  no  right  to  any  other  crown." 

"  Yes,"  cried  a  hoary-headed  shepherd ;  "  you  free  your 
country  from  tyrants,  and  tlie  people's  hearts  will  proclaim 
their  deliverer  their  sovereign  !  " 

"  May  your  rightful  monarch,  worthy  patriarch,"  said 
Wallace,  "whether  a  Bruce  or  a  Baliol,  meet  with  equal 
zeal  from  Scotland  at  large ;  and  tyranny  must  then  fall  be- 
fore courage  and  loyalty  !  " 

The  women  wept  as  they  clung  to  his  hand ;  and  the 
daughter  of  Ireland,  holding  up  her  child  in  her  arms,  pre- 
sented it  to  him.  "  Look  on  my  son !  "  cried  she  with  energy. 
"  The  first  word  he  speaks  shall  be  '  Wallace ; '  the  second, 
'  liberty.'  And  every  drop  of  milk  he  draws  from  my  bosom 
shall  be  turned  into  blood,  to  nerve  a  conquering  arm  or  to 
flow  for  his  country  ! " 

At  this  speech,  all  the  women  held  up  their  children 
towards  him.  "Here,"  cried  they,  "we  devote  them  to 
Heaven  and  to  our  country  !  Adopt  them,  noble  Wallace, 
to  be  thy  followers  in  arms  when,  perhaps,  their  fathers  are 
laid  low ! " 

Unable  to  speak,  Wallace  pressed  their  little  faces  sep- 
arately to  his  lips ;  then  returning  them  to  their  mothers, 
laid  his  hand  on  his  heart,  and  answered  in  an  agitated 
voice :  "  They  are  mine  !  My  weal  shall  be  theirs, — my 
woe,  my  own."  As  he  spoke,  he  hurried  from  the  weeping 
group ;  and  immerging  amid  the  cliffs,  hid  himself  from 
their  tears  and  their  blessings. 

He  threw  himself  on  a  shelving  rock,  whose  fern-covered 
bosom  projected  over  the  winding  waters  of  Loch  Lubnaig; 
and  while  his  eyes  contemplated  its  serene  surface,  he  sighed, 
and  thought  how  tranquil  was  nature  till  the  rebellious  pas- 
sions of  man,  wearying  of  innocent  joys,  disturbed  all  by 
restlessness  and  violence. 

The  mists  of  evening  hung  on  the  gigantic  tops  of  Ben  Lidi 
and  Ben  Vorlich,  and  sailing  forward,  by  degrees  obscured 
the  whole  of  the  mountains,  and  left  nothing  for  the  eye  to 
dwell  on  but  the  long  silent  expanse  of  the  lake  beneath. 

"  So,"  said  he,  "  did  I  once  believe  myself  forever  shut 
in  from  the  world,  by  an  obscurity  that  promised  me  happi- 
ness as  well  as  seclusion !     But  the  hours  of  Ellerslie  are 


CLIFFS  OF  LOCH  LUBNAIG.  lyy 

gone.  No  tender  wife  will  now  twine  her  faithful  arms  about 
my  neck.  No  child  of  Marion  will  ever  be  pressed  to  my 
fond  bosom  !  Alas  !  the  angel  that  sunk  my  country's  wrongs 
to  a  dreamy  forgetfulness  in  her  arms  was  to  be  immolated 
that  I  might  awake  !  My  wife,  my  unborn  babe,  they  both 
must  bleed  for  Scotland !  —  and  the  sacrifice  shall  not  be 
yielded  in  vain.  No,  great  God  !  "  cried  he,  stretching  his 
clasped  hands  towards  heaven,  "  endow  me  with  thine  own 
spirit,  and  I  shall  yet  lead  my  countrymen  to  liberty  and  hap- 
piness !  Let  me  counsel  with  thy  wisdom  ;  let  me  conquer 
with  thine  arm ;  and  when  all  is  finished,  give  me,  O  gracious 
Father !  a  quiet  grave  beside  my  wife  and  child." 

Tears,  the  first  he  had  shed  since  the  hour  in  which  he 
last  pressed  his  Marion  to  his  heart,  now  flowed  copiously 
from  his  eyes.  The  women,  the  children,  had  aroused  all 
his  recollections  ;  but  in  so  softened  a  train  that  they  melted 
his  heart  till  he  wept.  "It  is  thy  just  tribute,  Marion!" 
said  he.  "  It  was  blood  you  shed  for  me,  and  shall  I  check 
these  poor  drops  !  Look  on  me,  sweet  saint,  best  beloved 
of  my  soul !  Oh,  hover  near  me  in  the  day  of  battle,  and 
thousands  of  thine  and  Scotland's  enemies  shall  fall  before 
thy  husband's  arm  !  " 

The  plaintive  voice  of  the  Highland  pipe  at  this  moment 
broke  upon  his  ear.  It  was  the  farewell  of  the  patriarch 
Lindsay,  as  he  and  his  departing  company  descended  the 
winding  paths  of  Craignacoheilg.  Wallace  started  on  his 
feet.  The  separation  had  then  taken  place  between  his 
trusty  followers  and  their  families ;  and  guessing  the  feel- 
ings of  those  brave  men  from  what  was  passing  in  his  own 
breast,  he  dried  away  the  traces  of  his  tears,  and  once  more 
resuming  the  warrior's  cheerful  look,  sought  that  part  of 
the  rock  where  the  Lanark  men  were  quartered. 

As  he  drew  near  he  saw  some  standing  on  the  cliff,  and 
others  leaning  over  to  catch  another  glance  of  the  depart- 
ing group  ere  it  was  lost  amid  the  shades  of  Glenfinlass. 

"  Are  they  quite  gone  ?  "  asked  Dugald. 

"  Quite,"  answered  a  young  man,  who  seemed  to  have 
got  the  most  advantageous  situation  for  a  view. 

"  Then,"  cried  he,  "  may  Saint  Andrew  keep  them  till  we 
meet  again ! " 

"Maya  greater  than  Saint  Andrew  hear  thy  prayer!" 

VOL.    I. —  12 


178  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

ejaculated  Wallace.  At  the  sound  of  this  response  from 
their  chief,  they  all  turned  round.  "  My  brave  companions," 
said  he,  "  I  come  to  repay  this  hour's  pang,  by  telling  you 
that  in  the  attack  of  Dumbarton  you  shall  have  the  honor 
of  first  mounting  the  walls.  I  shall  be  at  your  head,  to 
sign  each  brave  soldier  with  a  patriot's  seal  of  honor." 

"  To  follow  you,  my  lord,"  said  Dugald,  "  is  our  duty." 

"I  grant  it,"  replied  the  chief;  "and  as  I  am  the  leader 
in  that  duty,  it  is  mine  to  dispense  to  every  man  his  reward, 
and  to  prove  to  all  men  that  virtue  alone  is  true  nobility." 

"  Ah,  dearest  sir,"  exclaimed  Edwin,  who  had  been  as- 
sisting the  women  to  carry  their  infants  down  the  steep,  and 
on  reascending  heard  the  latter  part  of  this  conversation, 
"  deprive  me  not  of  the  aim  of  my  life !  These  warriors 
have  had  you  long,  have  distinguished  themselves  in  your 
eyes.  Deprive  me  not,  then,  of  the  advantage  of  being 
near  you ;  it  will  make  me  doubly  brave.  Oh,  my  dear 
commander,  let  me  only  carry  to  the  grave  the  conscious- 
ness that,  next  to  yourself,  I  was  the  first  to  mount  the  rock 
of  Dumbarton,  and  you  will  make  me  noble  indeed ! " 

Wallace  looked  at  him  with  a  smile  of  such  graciousness 
that  the  youth  threw  himself  into  his  arms :  "  You  will 
grant  my  boon  !  " 

"  I  will,  noble  boy ! "  said  he.  "  Act  up  to  your  senti- 
ments, and  you  shall  be  my  brother." 

"  Call  me  by  that  name,"  cried  Edwin,  "  and  I  will  dare 
anything." 

"  Then  be  the  first  to  follow  me  on  the  rock,"  said  Wal- 
lace, "  and  I  will  lead  you  to  an  honor  the  highest  in  my 
gift,  —  you  shall  unloose  the  chains  of  the  Earl  of  Mar! 
And  ye,"  continued  he,  turning  to  his  men,  "  ye  shall  not 
find  your  country  slow  to  commemorate  the  duty  of  such 
sons.  Being  the  first  to  strike  the  blow  for  her  freedom, 
ye  shall  be  the  first  she  will  distinguish.  I  now  speak  as 
her  minister ;  and  as  a  badge  to  times  immemorial,  I  bid 
you  wear  the  Scottish  lion  on  your  shields." 

A  shout  of  proud  joy  issued  from  every  heart.  And 
Wallace,  seeing  that  honor  had  dried  the  tears  of  regret, 
left  them  to  repose.  He  sent  Edwin  to  his  rest,  and  him- 
self, avoiding  the  other  chieftains,  retired  to  his  own  cham- 
ber in  the  tower. 


LOCH  LOMOND.  179 


CHAPTER  XX. 

LOCH    LOMOND. 


PROFOUND  as  was  the  rest  of  Wallace,  yet  the  first 
clarion  of  the  lark  awakened  him.  The  rosy  dawn 
shone  in  at  the  window ;  and  a  fresh  breeze  wooed  him  with 
its  inspiring  breath  to  rise  and  meet  it.  But  the  impulse  was 
in  his  own  mind ;  he  needed  nothing  outward  to  call  him  to 
action.  Rising  immediately,  he  put  on  his  glittering  hau- 
berk, and  issuing  from  the  tower,  raised  his  bugle  to  his 
lips,  and  blew  so  rousing  a  blast  that  in  an  instant  the  whole 
rock  was  covered  with  soldiers. 

Wallace  placed  his  helmet  on  his  head,  and  advanced 
towards  them  just  as  Edwin  had  joined  him  and  Sir  Roger 
Kirkpatrick  appeared  from  the  tower.  "  Blest  be  this 
morn  !  "  said  the  old  knight.  "  My  sword  springs  from  its 
scabbard  to  meet  it ;  and  ere  its  good  steel  be  sheathed 
again,"  continued  he,  shaking  it  sternly,  "  what  deaths  may 
dye  its  point !  " 

Wallace  shuddered  at  the  ferocity  with  which  his  col- 
league contemplated  those  features  of  war  from  which 
every  humane  soldier  would  seek  to  turn  his  thoughts,  that 
he  might  encounter  it  with  the  steadiness  of  a  man  and 
not  the  irresolution  of  woman.  To  hail  the  field  of  blood 
with  the  fierceness  of  hatred,  eager  for  the  slaughter  of  its 
victim,  —  to  know  any  joy  in  combat  but  that  each  contest 
might  render  another  less  necessary,  —  did  not  enter  into 
the  imagination  of  Wallace  until  he  had  heard  and  seen 
the  infuriate  Kirkpatrick.  He  now  talked  of  the  coming 
battle  with  horrid  rapture,  and  told  the  young  Edwin  he 
should  that  day  see  Loch  Lomond  red  with  English  blood. 

Offended  at  such  savageness,  but  without  answering 
him,  Wallace  drew  towards  Murray,  and  calling  to  Edwin, 
ordered  him  to  march  at  his  side.  The  youth  seemed  glad 
of  the  summons ;  and  Wallace  was  pleased  to  observe  it, 
as  he  thought  that  a  longer  stay  with  one  who  so  grossly 
overcharged  the  feelings  of  honest  patriotism  might  breed 


l8o  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

disgust  in  his  innocent  mind  against  a  cause  which  had  so 
furious  and  therefore  unjust  a  defender. 

"Justice  and  Mercy  ever  dwell  together,"  said  he  to 
Edwin,  who  now  drew  near  him ;  "  for  universal  Love  is 
the  parent  of  justice  as  well  as  of  mercy.  But  implacable 
Revenge,  whence  did  she  spring  but  from  the  head  of 
Satan  himself  ? " 

Though  their  cause  appeared  the  same,  never  were  two 
spirits  more  discordant  than  those  of  Wallace  and  Kirk- 
patrick.  But  Kirkpatrick  did  not  so  soon  discover  the  dis- 
similarity, —  as  it  is  easier  for  fairness  to  descry  its  opposite, 
than  for  foulness  to  apprehend  that  anything  can  be  purer 
than  itself. 

The  forces  being  marshalled  according  to  the  -pre- 
concerted order,  the  three  commanders,  with  Wallace  at 
their  head,  led  forward.  They  passed  through  the  for- 
est of  Glenfinlass.  And  morning  and  evening  still  found 
them  thridding  those  unsuspected  solitudes  in  unmolested 
security. 

The  sun  had  just  risen  as  the  little  band  of  patriots,  the 
hope  of  freedom,  emerged  upon  the  eastern  bank  of  Loch 
Lomond.  The  bases  of  the  mountains  were  yet  covered 
with  the  dispersing  mist  of  the  morning,  and  were  hardly 
distinguishable  from  the  blue  waters  of  the  lake  which 
lashed  the  shore.  The  newly  awakened  sheep  bleated 
from  the  hills,  and  the  umbrageous  herbage  dropping  dew 
seemed  glittering  with  a  thousand  fairy  gems. 

"  Where  is  the  man  that  would  not  fight  for  such  a 
country  ! "  exclaimed  Murray,  as  he  stepped  over  a  bridge 
of  interwoven  trees  which  crossed  one  of  the  mountain 
streams.  "  This  land  was  not  made  for  slaves.  Look  at 
these  bulwarks  of  Nature  !  Every  mountain-head  which 
forms  this  chain  of  hills  is  an  impregnable  rampart  against 
invasion.  If  Baliol  had  possessed  but  half  a  heart,  Edward 
might  have  returned  even  worse  than  Caesar, — without  a 
cockle  to  decorate  his  helmet." 

"  Baliol  has  found  the  oblivion  he  incurred,"  returned 
Wallace ;  "  his  son,  perhaps,  may  better  deserve  the  sceptre 
of  such  a  country.  Let  us  cut  the  way,  and  he  who  merits 
the  crown  will  soon  appear  to  claim  it." 

"  Then  it  will  not  be  Edward  Baliol !  "  rejoined  Scrym- 


LOCH  LOMOND.  l8l 

geour.  "  During  the  inconsistent  reign  of  his  father  I  once 
carried  a  dispatcli  to  him  from  Scotland.  He  was  then 
banqueting  in  all  the  luxuries  of  the  English  court,  —  and 
such  a  voluptuary  I  never  saw  !  I  left  the  scene  of  folly 
only  praying  that  so  effeminate  a  prince  might  never  dis- 
grace the  throne  of  our  manly  race  of  kings." 

"If  such  be  the  tuition  of  our  lords  in  the  court  of 
Edward,  —  and  wise  is  the  policy  for  his  own  views ! " 
observed  Ker,  —  "  what  can  we  expect  from  even  the 
Bruce  ?  They  were  ever  a  nobler  race  than  the  Baliol ; 
but  bad  education  and  luxury  will  debase  the  most  princely 
minds." 

"  I  saw  neither  of  the  Bruce  when  I  was  in  London," 
replied  Scrymgeour;  "the  Earl  of  Carrick  was  at  his  house 
in  Cleveland,  and  Robert  Bruce,  his  eldest  son,  with  the 
English  army  in  Guienne.  But  they  bore  a  manly  charac- 
ter, particularly  young  Robert,  to  whom  the  troubadours  of 
Aquitaine  have  given  the  flattering  appellation  of  '  prince 
of  chivalry.'  " 

"  It  would  be  more  to  his  honor,"  interrupted  Murray,  "if 
he  compelled  the  English  to  acknowledge  him  as  prince  of 
Scotland.  With  so  much  bravery,  how  can  he  allow  such 
a  civet-cat  as  Edward  Baliol  to  bear  away  the  title  which 
is  his  by  the  double  right  of  blood  and  virtue  .''  " 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Wallace,  "  the  young  lion  only  sleeps  ! 
The  time  may  come  when  both  he  and  his  father  will  rise 
from  their  lethargy  and  throw  themselves  at  once  into  the 
arms  of  Scotland.  To  stimulate  the  dormant  patriotism  of 
these  two  princes  by  showing  them  a  subject  leading  their 
people  to  liberty,  is  one  great  end  of  the  victories  I  seek. 
None  other  than  a  brave  king  can  bind  the  various  inter- 
ests of  this  distracted  country  in  one;  and  therefore  for 
fair  freedom's  sake,  my  heart  turns  towards  the  Bruces  with 
most  anxious  hopes." 

"  For  my  part,"  cried  Murray,  "  I  have  always  thought 
that  the  lady  we  will  not  woo  we  have  no  right  to  pretend 
to.  If  the  Bruces  will  not  be  at  the  pains  to  snatch  Scot- 
land from  drowning,  I  see  no  reason  for  making  them  a 
present  of  what  will  cost  us  many  a  wet  jacket  before  we 
tug  her  from  the  waves.  He  that  wins  the  day  ought  to 
wear  the  laurel;  and  so,  once  for  all,  I  proclaim  him  king 


1 82  THE  SCOrriSH  CHIEFS. 

of  good  old  Albin  ^  who  will  have  the  glory  of  driving  her 
oppressors  beyond  her  dykes." 

Wallace  did  not  hear  this  last  sentiment  of  Murray,  as 
it  was  spoken  in  a  lowered  voice,  in  the  ear  of  Kirkpatrick. 
"  I  perfectly  agree  with  you,"  was  that  knight's  reply ;  "  and 
in  the  true  Roman  style,  may  the  death  of  every  Southron 
now  in  Scotland,  and  as  many  more  as  Fate  chooses  to 
yield  us,  be  the  preliminary  games  of  his  coronation." 

Wallace,  who  heard  this,  turned  to  Kirkpatrick  with  a 
gentle  rebuke  in  his  eye  :  "  Balaam  blessed  when  he  meant 
to  curse,"  said  he ;  "  but  you  curse  when  you  mean  to  bless. 
Such  prayers  are  blasphemy.  For  can  we  expect  a  blessing 
on  our  arms  when  all  our  invocations  are  for  vengeance 
rather  than  victory  ?  " 

"  Blood  for  blood  is  only  justice  !  "  cried  Murray ;  "  and 
how  can  you,  noble  Wallace,  as  a  Scot  and  as  a  man,  imply 
any  mercy  to  the  villains  who  stab  us  to  the  heart  ?  " 

"  I  plead  not  for  them,"  returned  Wallace,  "  but  for  the 
poor  wretches  who  follow  their  leaders  by  force  to  the  field 
of  Scotland :  I  would  not  inflict  on  them  the  cruelties  we 
now  resent.  It  is  not  to  aggrieve,  but  to  redress,  that  we 
carry  arms.  If  we  make  not  this  distinction,  we  turn 
courage  into  a  crime,  and  plant  disgrace  instead  of  honor 
upon  the  warrior's  brow." 

"  I  do  not  understand  commiserating  the  wolves  who 
have  so  long  made  havoc  in  our  country,"  replied  Kirk- 
patrick in  a  surly  tone.  "  Methinks  such  maidenly  mercy  is 
rather  out  of  place  in  the  mouth  of  the  leader  of  so  many 
brave  men." 

Wallace  turned  to  him  with  a  benign  smile :  "  I  will 
answer  you,  my  valiant  friend,  by  adopting  your  own  figure. 
It  is  that  these  Southron  wolves  may  not  confound  us  with 
themselves  that  I  wish  to  show  in  our  conduct  rather  the 
generous  ardor  of  the  faithful  guardian  of  the  fold,  than 
the  rapacious  fierceness  which  equals  them  with  the  beasts 
of  the  desert.  As  we  are  men  and  Scots,  let  the  burden  of 
our  prayers  be  the  preservation  of  our  country,  not  the 
slaughter  of  our  enemies !  The  one  is  an  ambition  with 
which  angels  may  sympathize ;  the  other,  a  horrible  desire 
which  speaks  the  nature  of  fiends." 

1  Albin  was  the  ancient  name  of  Scotland. 


LOCH  LOMOND.  1 83 

"In  some  cases  this  may  be,"  replied  Sir  Roger,  a  little 
reconciled  to  the  argument,  "  but  not  in  mine.  My  injury 
yet  burns  upon  my  cheek ;  and  as  nothing  but  the  life- 
blood  of  Cressingham  can  quench  it,  I  will  listen  no  more 
to  your  doctrine  till  I  am  revenged.  That  done,  I  will  not 
forget  your  lesson." 

"  Generous  Kirkpatrick  !  "  exclaimed  Wallace,  "  nothing 
that  is  really  cruel  can  dwell  with  such  manly  candor.  Say 
what  you  will,  I  can  trust  your  heart  after  this  moment !  " 

They  had  crossed  the  river  Ennerie,  and  were  issuing 
from  between  its  narrow  ridges  of  hills  when  Wallace, 
pointing  to  a  stupendous  rock  which  rose  in  solitary  mag- 
nificence in  the  midst  of  a  vast  plain,  exclaimed,  "  There  is 
Dumbarton  castle  !  That  citadel  holds  the  fetters  of  Scot- 
land; and  if  we  break  them  there,  every  minor  link  will 
easily  give  way." 

The  men  uttered  a  shout  of  anticipated  triumph  at  this 
sight,  and  proceeding,  soon  came  in  view  of  the  fortifica- 
tions which  helmeted  the  rock.  As  they  approached,  they 
discovered  that  it  had  two  summits,  being  in  a  manner  cleft 
in  twain,  —  the  one  side  rising  in  a  pyramidal  form,  and 
the  other,  of  a  more  level  shape,  sustaining  the  ponderous 
buildings  of  the  fortress. 

It  was  dusk  when  the  little  army  arrived  in  the  rear  of  a 
close  thicket  which  skirted  the  eastern  dyke  of  the  castle 
and  reached  to  an  immense  depth  on  the  plain.  On  this 
spot  Wallace  rested  his  men ;  and  while  they  placed  them- 
selves under  cover  till  the  appointed  time  of  attack,  he  per- 
ceived, through  an  opening  in  the  wood,  the  gleaming  of 
troops  on  the  ramparts,  and  fires  beginning  to  light  on 
a  lonely  watch-tower  which  crowned  the  pinnacle  of  the 
highest  rock. 

"  Poor  fools  !  "  exclaimed  Murray ;  "  like  the  rest  of  their 
brethren  of  clay,  they  look  abroad  for  evils,  and  prepare 
not  for  those  which  are  even  at  their  doors ! " 

"  That  beacon-fire,"  cried  Scrymgeour,  "  shall  light  us  to 
their  chambers;  and  for  once  we  thank  them  for  their 
providence." 

"  That  beacon-fire,"  whispered  Edwin  to  Wallace,  "  shall 
light  me  to  honor !  To-night,  by  your  agreement,  I  shall 
call  you  brother,  or  lie  dead  on  the  summit  of  those  walls  !  " 


1 84  '^HE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

" Edwin,"  said  Wallace,  "act  as  you  say;  and  deserve, 
not  only  to  be  called  my  brother,  but  to  be  the  first  patriot 
knight ! " 

He  then  turned  towards  the  lines;  and  giving  his  orders 
to  each  division,  directed  them  to  seek  repose  on  the  sur- 
rounding heather  till  the  now  glowing  moon  should  have 
sunk  her  telltale  light  in  the  waves. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

DUMBARTON   ROCK. 

ALL  obeyed  the  voice  of  their  commander,  and  retired 
to  rest.  But  the  eyes  of  Edwin  could  not  close ;  his 
eager  spirit  was  already  on  the  walls  of  Dumbarton.  His 
rapid  mind  anticipated  the  ascent  of  his  general  and  his 
troop.  But  an  imagination  no  less  just  than  ardent  sug- 
gested the  difficulties  attending  so  small  a  force  assailing 
so  formidable  a  garrison,  without  some  immediate  knowl- 
edge of  its  relative  situations.  A  sudden  thought  struck 
him.  He  would  mount  that  rock  alone  ;  he  would  seek  to 
ascertain  the  place  of  Lord  Mar's  confinement,  that  not  one 
life  in  Wallace's  faithful  band  might  be  lost  in  a  vague 
search. 

"  Ah !  my  general,"  exclaimed  he,  "  Edwin  shall  be  the 
first  to  spring  those  ramparts  I  He  shall  tread  that  danger- 
ous patli  alone ;  and  when  he  has  thus  proved  himself  not 
unworthy  of  thy  confidence,  he  will  return  to  lead  thee  and 
thy  soldiers  to  a  sure  victory,  and  himself  to  honor  by  thy 
side ! " 

This  fervent  apostrophe,  breathed  to  the  night  alone,  was 
no  sooner  uttered  than  he  stole  from  the  thicket  into  which 
he  had  cast  himself  to  repose.  He  looked  towards  the 
embattled  cliff ;  its  summit  stood  bright  in  the  moonlight, 
but  deep  shadows  lay  beneath.  "  God  be  my  speed ! " 
cried  he,  and  wrapping  himself  in  his  plaid,  so  mixed  its 
dark  hues  with  the  weeds  and  herbage  at  the  base  of  the 
rock  that  he  made  its  circuit  without  having  attracted 
observation. 


DUMBARTON  ROCK.  185 

The  south  side  seemed  the  most  easy  of  ascent,  and  by 
that  he  began  his  daring  attempt.  Having  gained  the 
height,  he  clambered  behind  a  buttress  the  shadow  of  which 
cast  the  wall  into  such  black  obscurity  that  he  crept  safely 
through  one  of  its  crenelles,  and  dropping  gently  inward, 
alighted  on  his  feet.  Still  keeping  the  shadowed  side  of 
the  battlements,  he  proceeded  cautiously  along,  and  so  still 
was  his  motion  that  he  passed  undiscovered  even  by  the 
sentinels  who  guarded  this  quarter  of  the  fortress. 

Edwin  soon  arrived  at  the  open  square  before  the  citadel. 
It  was  yet  occupied  by  groups  of  Southron  officers,  who 
were  gayly  walking  to  and  fro  under  the  light  of  the  moon. 
In  hopes  of  gaining  information  by  listening  to  their  dis- 
course, he  concealed  himself  behind  a  chest  of  arrows ;  and 
as  they  passed  backward  and  forward,  he  distinctly  heard 
them  jesting  each  other  about  divers  fair  prisoners  whom 
they  had  possessed  at  various  times.  The  conversation 
terminated  in  a  debate  whether  or  not  the  indifference 
which  their  governor,  De  Valence,  manifested  to  the  majes- 
tic beauty  of  the  Countess  of  Mar  were  real  or  assumed ; 
a  thousand  insolent  remarks  were  made  on  the  subject,  and 
Edwin  gathered  sufficient  from  the  discourse  to  understand 
that  the  earl  and  countess  were  treated  severely  and  con- 
fined in  a  large  square  tower  in  the  cleft  of  the  rock. 

Having  learned  all  that  he  could  expect  from  these  offi- 
cers, he  speeded  under  the  friendly  shadow  towards  the 
other  side  of  the  citadel,  and  arrived  just  as  the  guard 
approached  to  relieve  the  sentinels  of  the  northern  postern. 
He  laid  himself  close  to  the  ground,  and  happily  overheard 
the  word  of  the  night  as  it  was  given  to  the  new  watch. 
This  providential  circumstance  saved  his  life. 

Finding  no  mode  of  regress  from  this  place  but  bv  the 
postern  (at  which  stood  the  sentinel) ,  or  by  attempting  a 
passage  tlirough  a  small  adjoining  tower  the  door  of  which 
was  open,  Edwin  considered  a  moment,  and  then  deciding 
for  the  tower,  stole  unobserved  into  it.  Fortunately  it  was 
at  present  unoccupied.  He  found  it  full  of  spare  arms, 
with  two  or  three  vacant  couches  in  different  corners,  where 
he  supposed  the  officers  on  guard  occasionally  reposed. 
Several  watch-qloaks  lay  on  the  floor.  He  readily  appre- 
hended the  use  he  might  make  of  this  circumstance,  and 


1 86  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

throwing  one  over  his  shoulders,  climbed  to  a  large  embra- 
sure in  the  wall,  and  forcing  himself  through  it,  dropped  on 
to  a  decHvity  on  the  other  side,  which  shelved  down  to  the 
cliff  wherein  he  now  saw  the  square  tower. 

Edwin  had  scarcely  lit  on  firm  ground  when  a  sentinel, 
followed  by  two  others  with  presented  pikes,  approached 
him  and  demanded  the  word.     "  Pembroke,"  was  his  reply. 

"  Why  leap  the  embrasure  ?  "  said  one. 

"  Why  not  enter  by  the  postern  ?  "  demanded  another. 

The  conversation  of  the  officers  had  given  Edwin  a  hint, 
on  which  he  formed  his  answer.  "  Love,  my  brave  com- 
rades," replied  he,  "  seldom  chooses  even  ways.  I  go  on  a 
message  from  a  young  ensign  in  the  keep  to  one  of  the 
Scottish  damsels  in  yonder  tower.  Delay  me,  and  his  ven- 
geance will  fall  upon  us  all." 

"  Good-luck  to  you,  my  lad ! "  was  their  answer ;  and 
with  a  lightened  step  he  hastened  towards  the  tower. 

Not  deeming  it  safe  or  needful  to  seek  an  interview  with 
any  of  the  earl's  family,  Edwin  crept  along  its  base  and 
across  the  works  till  he  reached  the  high  wall  that  blocks 
up  egress  from  the  north.  He  found  this  formidable  cur- 
tain constructed  of  fragments  of  rock ;  and  for  the  con- 
venience of  the  guard,  a  sloping  platform  from  within  led 
to  the  top  of  the  wall.  On  the  other  side  it  was  perpen- 
dicular. A  solitary  sentinel  stood  there ;  and  how  to  pass 
him  was  Edwin's  next  device.  To  attack  him  would  be 
desperate  ;  being  one  of  a  chain  of  guards  around  the 
interior  of  the  fortress,  his  voice  need  only  be  raised  in  the 
least  to  call  a  regiment  to  his  assistance,  and  Edwin  must 
be  seized  on  the  instant. 

Aware  of  his  danger,  but  not  dismayed,  the  adventurous 
youth  bethought  him  of  his  former  excuse ;  and  remember- 
ing a  flask  of  spirits  which  Ireland  had  put  into  his  pouch 
on  leaving  Glenfinlass,  he  affected  to  be  intoxicated,  and 
staggering  up  to  the  man,  accosted  him  in  the  character  of 
a  servant  of  the  garrison. 

The  sentinel  did  not  doubt  the  appearance  of  the  boy ; 
and  Edwin,  holding  out  the  flask,  said  that  a  pretty  girl  in 
the  great  tower  had  not  only  given  him  a  long  draught  of 
the  same  good  liquor,  but  had  filled  his  bottle,  that  he 
might  not   lack  amusement  while  her  companion,  one   of 


D UMBAR TON  ROCK.  1 8 / 

Lady  Mar's  maids-in-waiting,  was  tying  up  a  true  lover's 
knot  to  send  to  his  master  in  tlie  garrison.  The  man  be- 
lieved Edwin's  tale  the  more  readily  as  he  thrust  the  flask 
into  his  hand  and  bade  him  drink.  "  Do  not  spare  it," 
cried  he  ;  "  the  night  is  chilly,  and  I  shall  get  more  where 
that  came  from." 

The  unsuspecting  Southron  returned  him  a  merry  reply, 
and  putting  the  flask  to  his  head,  soon  drained  its  contents. 
They  had  the  effect  Edwin  desired.  The  soldier  became 
flustered  and  impatient  of  his  duty.  Edwin  perceived  it, 
and  yawning,  complained  of  drowsiness.  "  I  would  go  to 
the  top  of  that  wall,  and  sleep  sweetly  in  the  moonbeams," 
said  he,  "  if  any  good-natured  fellow  would  meanwhile  wait 
for  my  pretty  Scot !  " 

The  half  inebriated  Southron  liked  no  better  sport ;  and 
regardless  of  duty,  he  promised  to  draw  nearer  the  tower, 
and  bring  from  the  fair  messenger  the  expected  token. 

Having  thus  far  gained  his  point,  with  an  apparently 
staggering  but  really  agile  step  Edwin  ascended  the  wall. 
A  leap  from  this  dizzy  height  was  his  only  way  to  rejoin 
Wallace.  To  retread  his  steps  through  the  fortress  in 
safety  would  hardly  be  possible  ;  and  besides,  such  a  mode 
of  retreat  would  leave  him  uninformed  on  the  second  object 
of  his  enterprise,  —  to  know  the  most  vulnerable  side  of  the 
fortress.  He  threw  himself  along  the  summit  of  the  wall, 
as  if  to  sleep.  He  looked  down,  and  saw  nothing  but  the 
blackness  of  space ;  for  here  the  broad  expanse  of  shadow 
rendered  rocks  and  building  of  the  same  hue  and  level. 
But  Hope  buoyed  him  in  her  arms ;  and  turning  his  eyes 
towards  the  sentinel,  he  observed  him  to  have  amved  with- 
in a  few  paces  of  the  square  tower.  This  was  Edwin's 
moment ;  and  grasping  the  projecting  stone  of  the  battle- 
ment, he  threw  himself  from  its  summit,  and  fell  a  fearful 
depth  to  the  cliffs  beneath. 

Meanwhile,  Wallace,  having  seen  his  brave  followers 
depart  to  their  repose,  reclined  himself  along  a  pile  of  moss- 
grown  stones,  which  in  the  days  of  the  renowned  Fingal 
had  covered  the  body  of  some  valiant  Morven  chieftain. 
He  fixed  his  wakeful  eyes  on  the  castle,  now  illumined  in 
every  part  by  the  fulness  of  the  moon's  lustre,  and  con- 
sidered  which    point  would    be   most    assailable    by  the 


1 88  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

scaling-ladders  he  had  prepared.  Every  side  seemed  a 
precipice.  The  Leven  surrounded  it  on  the  north  and  the 
west ;  the  Clyde,  broad  as  a  sea,  on  the  south.  The  only 
place  that  seemed  at  all  accessible  was  the  side  next  the 
dyke  behind  which  he  lay.  Here  the  ascent  to  the  cas- 
tellated part  of  the  rock,  because  most  perpendicular,  was 
the  least  guarded  with  outworks ;  and  by  this  he  deter- 
mined to  make  the  attempt  as  soon  as  the  setting  moon 
should  involve  the  garrison  in  darkness. 

While  he  yet  mused  on  what  might  be  the  momentous 
consequences  of  the  succeeding  midnight  hours,  he  thought 
he  heard  a  swift  though  cautious  footstep.  He  raised  him- 
self, and  laying  his  hand  on  his  sword  saw  a  figure  advanc- 
ing towards  him. 

"  Who  goes  there  ?  "  demanded  Wallace. 

"  A  faithful  Scot,"  was  the  reply. 

Wallace  recognized  the  voice  of  Edwin.  "  What  has 
disturbed  you.-*  Why  do  you  not  take  rest  with  the 
others .?  " 

"  That  we  may  have  the  surer  to-morrow,"  replied  the 
youth.     "  I  am  just  returned  from  the  summit  of  yon  rock." 

"  How  !  "  inteiTupted  Wallace.  "  Have  you  scaled  it 
alone,  and  are  returned  in  safety  ?  "  Wallace  caught  him 
in  his  arms.  "  I  ntrepid,  glorious  boy !  tell  me  for  what 
purpose  did  you  thus  hazard  your  precious  life  1  " 

"  I  wished  to  learn  its  most  pregnable  part,"  replied 
Edwin,  his  young  heart  beating  with  triumph  at  these 
encomiums  from  his  commander,  "  and  particularly  where 
the  good  earl  is  confined,  that  we  might  make  our  attack 
directly  to  the  point." 

"  And  have  you  been  successful,  my  brave  Edwin  ?  " 
demanded  Wallace. 

"  I  have,"  was  his  answer.  "  Lord  Mar  and  his  lady  are 
kept  in  a  square  tower  which  stands  in  the  cleft  between 
the  two  summits  of  the  rock.  It  is  not  only  surrounded  by 
embattled  walls  which  flank  the  ponderous  buttresses  of 
this  huge  dungeon,  but  the  space  on  which  it  stands  is  bul- 
warked at  each  end  by  a  stone  curtain  of  fifteen  feet  high, 
guarded  by  turrets  full  of  armed  men." 

"  And  yet  by  that  side  you  suppose  we  must  ascend  ?  " 
said  Wallace. 


DUMBARTON  ROCK.  I  89 

"  Certainly  ;  for  if  you  attempt  it  on  the  west,  we  should 
have  to  scale  the  watch-tower  cliff,  and  the  ascent  could 
only  be  gained  in  file.  An  auxiliary  detachment,  to  attack 
in  flank,  might  succeed  there ;  but  the  passage,  being  so 
narrow,  would  be  too  tedious  for  the  whole  party.  Should 
we  take  the  south,  we  must  cut  .through  the  whole  garrison 
before  we  could  reach  the  earl.  And  on  this  side  the 
morass  lies  too  near  the  foot  of  the  rock  to  admit  an  ap- 
proach without  the  greatest  danger.  But  on  the  north, 
where  I  descended,  by  wading  through  part  of  the  Leven 
and  climbing  from  cliff  to  cliff,  I  have  every  hope  you  may 
succeed." 

Edwin  recounted  every  particular  of  his  progress  through 
the  fortress,  and  by  the  minuteness  of  his  topographical 
descriptions  enforced  his  arguments  for  the  north  to  be  the 
point  of  attack.  Closing  his  narrative,  he  explained  to  the 
anxious  inquiry  of  Wallace  how  he  had  escaped  accident 
in  a  leap  of  so  many  feet.  The  wall  was  covered  with  ivy ; 
he  caught  by  its  branches  in  his  descent,  and  at  last  happily 
fell  amongst  a  thick  bed  of  furze.  After  this  he  clambered 
down  the  steep,  and  fording  the  Leven,  which  was  there 
only  knee-deep,  appeared  before  his  general,  elate  in  heart 
and  bright  in  valor. 

"  The  intrepidity  of  this  action,"  returned  Wallace,  glow- 
ing with  admiration  at  so  noble  a  daring  in  so  young  a 
creature,  "  merits  that  every  confidence  should  be  placed 
in  the  result  of  your  observations.  Your  safe  return  is  a 
pledge  that  our  design  is  approved ;  and  when  we  go  in  the 
strength  of  Heaven,  who  can  doubt  the  issue  !  This  night, 
when  the  Lord  of  battles  puts  that  fortress  into  our  hands, 
before  the  whole  of  our  little  army  you  shall  receive  that 
knighthood  you  have  so  richly  deserved.  Such,  my  truly 
dear  brother,  my  noble  Edwin,  shall  be  the  reward  of  your 
virtue  and  toil !  " 

Wallace  would  now  have  sent  him  to  repose  himself ;  but 
animated  by  the  success  of  his  adventure,  and  exulting  in 
the  honor  which  was  so  soon  to  stamp  a  sign  of  this  exploit 
upon  him  forever,  he  told  his  leader  that  he  felt  no  want  of 
sleep,  and  would  rather  take  on  him  the  office  of  arousing 
the  other  captains  to  their  stations,  as  the  moon,  their  pre- 
concerted signal,  was  approaching  its  rest. 


190  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

THE   FORTRESS. 

KIRKPATRICK,  Murray,  and  Scrymgeour  hastened 
to  their  commander,  and  in  a  few  minutes  all  were 
under  arms.  Wallace  briefly  explained  his  altered  plan  of 
assault ;  and  marshalling  the  men  accordingly,  he  led  them 
in  silence  through  the  water,  and  along  the  beach  which 
lay  between  the  rock  and  the  Leven.  Arriving  at  the  base 
just  as  the  moon  set,  they  began  to  ascend.  To  do  this  in 
the  dark  redoubled  the  difficulty ;  but  as  Wallace  had  the 
place  of  every  accessible  stone  accurately  described  to  him 
by  Edwin,  he  went  confidently  forward,  followed  by  his 
Lanark  men.  He  and  they,  being  the  first  to  mount,  fixed 
and  held  the  tops  of  the  scaling-ladders,  while  Kirkpatrick 
and  Scrymgeour,  with  their  men,  gradually  ascended,  and 
gained  the  bottom  of  the  wall.  Here,  planting  themselves 
in  the  crannies  of  the  rock,  under  the  impenetrable  dark- 
ness of  the  night  (for  the  moon  had  not  only  set,  but  the 
stars  were  obscured  by  clouds),  they  awaited  the  signal  of 
attack. 

Meanwhile,  Edwin  led  Lord  Andrew  with  his  followers 
and  the  Eraser  men  round  by  the  western  side,  to  mount 
the  watch-tower  rock  and  seize  the  few  soldiers  who  kept 
the  beacon.  As  a  signal  of  having  succeeded,  they  were  to 
smother  the  flame  on  the  top  of  the  tower,  and  then  de- 
scend towards  the  garrison  to  meet  Wallace  before  the 
prison  of  the  Earl  of  Mar. 

While  the  men  of  Lanark,  with  their  eyes  fixed  on  the 
burning  beacon,  in  deadly  stillness  watched  the  wished-for 
signal,  which  was  to  be  that  of  the  attack,  Wallace,  by  the 
aid  of  his  dagger,  which  he  struck  into  the  firm  soil  that 
occupied  cracks  in  the  rock,  drew  himself  up,  almost  par- 
allel with  the  top  of  the  great  wall  that  clasped  the  bases 
of  the  two  hills.  He  listened  ;  not  a  voice  was  to  be  heard 
in  the  garrison  of  all  the  legions  he  had  so  lately  seen  glit- 
tering on  its  battlements.     It  was  an  awful  pause. 


THE  FORTRESS.  I9I 

Now  was  the  moment  when  Scotland  was  to  make  her 
first  essay  for  freedom.  Should  it  fail,  ten  thousand  bolts 
of  iron  would  be  added  to  her  chains.  Should  it  succeed, 
liberty  and  happiness  were  the  almost  certain  consequences. 

He  looked  up,  and  fixing  his  eyes  on  the  beacon-flame, 
thought  he  saw  the  figures  of  men  pass  before  it.  The 
next  moment  all  was  darkness.  He  sprang  on  the  wall ; 
and  feeling  by  the  touch  of  hands  about  his  feet  that  his 
brave  followers  had  already  mounted  their  ladders,  with  his 
sword  firmly  grasped  he  leaped  down  on  the  ground  within. 
As  he  lit  on  his  feet  he  struck  against  the  sentinel  who  was 
just  passing,  and  by  the  violence  of  the  shock  felled  him  to 
the  earth ;  but  the  man  as  he  fell,  catching  Wallace  round 
the  waist  dragged  him  after  him,  and  with  a  vociferous  cry 
shouted  "  Treason  !  " 

Several  sentinels  ran  with  levelled  pikes  to  the  spot. 
The  adjaceut  turrets  emptied  themselves  of  their  armed  in- 
habitants, and  all  fell  on  Wallace,  just  as  he  had  extricated 
himself  from  the  grasp  of  the  prostrate  soldier. 

"  Who  are  you?  "  demanded  they. 

"  Your  enemy ! "  and  two  fell  at  his  feet  with  one  stroke 
of  his  sword. 

"  Alarm  !  Treason  !  "  resounded  from  the  rest,  as  they 
aimed  their  random  strokes  at  the  conquering  chief.  But 
he  was  now  assisted  by  the  vigorous  arm  of  Ker  and  of 
several  Lanark  men,  who  having  cleared  the  wall  were  deal- 
ing about  blows  in  the  darkness,  which  filled  the  air  with 
groans  and  strewed  the  ground  with  the  dying  and  the 
dead. 

One  or  two  Southrons,  whose  courage  was  not  equal  to 
their  caution,  had  fled  to  arouse  the  garrison ;  and  just  as 
the  whole  of  Wallace's  men  had  leaped  the  wall  and  rallied 
to  his  support,  the  inner  ballium  gate  burst  open,  and  a 
legion  of  foes,  bearing  torches,  issued  to  the  contest.  With 
horrible  threatenings  they  came  on,  and  in  one  moment 
surrounded  Wallace  and  his  little  company.  But  his  soul 
brightened  in  danger ;  and  his  men  stood  firm  with  fixed 
pikes,  receiving  without  injury  the  assault.  Their  weapons 
being  longer  than  the  enemy's,  the  Southrons,  not  aware  of 
the  circumstance,  rushed  upon  their  points,  incurring  the 
death  they  meant  to  give.     Seeing  their  disorder,  Wallace 


192  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

ordered  the  pikes  to  be  dropped,  and  his  men  to  charge 
sword  in  hand.  Terrible  was  now  the  havoc ;  for  the  des- 
perate Scots,  grappUng  each  to  his  foe  with  a  fatal  hold, 
let  not  go  till  the  piercing  shriek  or  the  agonizing  groan 
convinced  him  that  death  had  seized  its  victim.  Wallace 
fought  in  front,  making  a  dreadful  passage  through  the 
falling  ranks,  while  the  tremendous  sweep  of  his  sword 
flashing  in  the  intermitting  light  warned  the  survivors  where 
the  avenging  blade  would  next  descend.  A  horrid  vacuity 
was  made  in  the  lately  thronged  spot :  it  seemed  not  the 
slaughter  of  a  mortal  arm,  but  as  if  the  destroying  angel 
himself  were  there,  and  with  one  blast  of  his  desolating 
brand  had  laid  all  in  ruin.  The  platform  was  cleared ;  and 
the  fallen  torches,  some  half  extinguished  and  others  flam- 
ing on  the  ground  by  the  side  of  the  dead,  showed  in  their 
uncertain  gleams  a  few  terrified  wretches  seeking  safety  in 
flight.  The  same  lurid  rays,  casting  a  transitory  light  on  the 
iron  gratings  of  the  great  tower,  informed  Wallace  that  the 
heat  of  conflict  had  drawn  him  to  the  prison  of  the  earl. 

"  We  are  now  near  the  end  of  this  night's  work  !  "  cried 
he.  "  Let  us  press  forward  to  give  freedom  to  the  Earl  of 
Mar!" 

"  Liberty,  and  Lord  Mar ! "  cried  Kirkpatrick,  rushing 
onward.  He  was  immediately  followed  by  his  own  men; 
but  not  so  quickly  but  that  the  guard  in  the  tower,  hearing 
the  outcry,  issued  from  the  flanking  gates,  and  surrounding 
him  took  him  prisoner. 

"  If  there  be  might  in  your  arms,"  roared  he  with  the 
voice  of  a  lion,  "  men  of  Loch  Doine,  rescue  your  leader ! " 
They  hurried  forward  with  yells  of  defiance.  But  the 
whole  garrison,  awakened  by  the  flying  wretches  from  the 
defeat,  turned  out  all  its  troops ;  and  with  De  Valence  at 
their  head,  pouring  on  Kirkpatrick's  men,  they  would  have 
overpowered  them  had  not  Wallace  and  his  sixty  heroes, 
with  desperate  determination,  cut  a  passage  through  the 
closing  ranks. 

Pikes  struck  against  corselets,  swords  rung  on  helmets ; 
and  the  ponderous  battle-axe,  falling  with  the  weight  of 
fate,  cleft  the  uplifted  target  in  twain.  Blood  poured  from 
every  side ;  and  the  dripping  hands  of  Kirkpatrick,  as  Wal- 
lace  tore  him  from   the  enemy,  proclaimed  that  he   had 


THE  FORTRESS.  1 93 

bathed  his  vengeance  in  the  stream.  On  being  released, 
he  shook  his  ensanguined  arms,  and  burst  into  a  horrid 
laugh.  "  The  work  speeds !  Now  through  the  heart  of 
the  governor !  " 

As  he  spoke,  Wallace  lost  him  from  his  side  again ;  and 
again,  by  the  shouts  of  the  Southrons,  who  cried,  "  No 
quarter  for  the  fiend  !  "  he  learned  that  he  was  retaken. 
That  merciless  cry  was  the  death-knell  of  their  own  doom. 
It  directed  Wallace  to  the  spot;  and  throwing  himself  and 
his  brethren  of  Lanark  into  the  midst  of  the  band  which 
held  the  chief,  Kirkpatrick  was  rescued,  and  again  in  his 
hands.  But  thousands  seemed  now  to  surround  him.  To 
do  this  generous  deed  he  had  advanced  farther  than  he 
ought,  and  himself  and  his  brave  followers  must  have  been 
slain  had  he  not  fallen  back ;  and  covering  their  rear  with 
the  great  tower,  all  who  had  the  hardihood  to  approach  fell 
under  the  weight  of  the  Scottish  sword. 

Scrymgeour,.  at  the  head  of  the  Loch  Doine  men,  in  vain 
attempted  to  reach  his  surrounded  countrymen ;  and  fear- 
ful of  losing  the  royal  standard,  he  was  turning  to  make  a 
valiant  retreat,  when  Murray  and  Edwin,  having  disen- 
gaged their  followers  from  the  precipices  of  the  beacon 
rock,  rushed  into  the  midst,  striking  their  shields,  and 
uttering  the  inspiring  slogan  of  "  Wallace  and  Freedom  !  " 
It  was  re-echoed  by  every  Scot.  Those  that  were  flying 
returned,  they  who  sustained  the  conflict  hailed  the  cry 
with  braced  sinews;  and  the  terrible  thunder  of  the  word, 
peaHng  from  rank  to  rank,  struck  a  terror  into  De  Valence's 
men  which  made  tliem  pause. 

On  that  short  moment  turned  the  crisis  of  their  fate. 
Wallace  cut  his  way  through  tlie  dismayed  Southrons,  who 
hearing  the  reiterated  shouts  of  tlie  fresh  reinforcement 
knew  not  whether  its  strength  might  not  be  thousands  in- 
stead of  hundreds,  and  panic-struck  they  became  an  easy 
prey  to  tlieir  enemies.  Surrounded,  mixed  with  the  assail- 
ants, they  knew  not  friends  from  foes ;  and  each  individual 
being  bent  on  flight,  they  indiscriminately  cut  to  right  and 
left,  wounding  as  many  of  their  own  men  as  of  the  Scots, 
and  finally,  after  slaughtering  half  their  companions,  some 
few  escaped  through  the  small  posterns  of  the  garrison, 
leaving  the  inner  ballia  in  possession  of  the  foe. 
VOL.   I.  —  J  3 


194  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

The  whole  of  the  field  being  cleared,  Wallace  ordered 
the  tower  to  be  forced.  A  strong  guard  was  within ;  and 
as  the  assailants  drew  near,  all  means  were  used  to  render 
their  assault  abortive.  As  the  Scots  pressed  to  the  main 
entrance,  stones  and  heavy  metals  were  thrown  upon  their 
heads ;  but  not  in  the  least  intimidated,  they  stood  beneath 
the  iron  shower,  till  Wallace  ordered  them  to  drive  a  large 
felled  tree  which  lay  on  the  ground  against  the  hinges  of 
the  door.  It  burst  open,  and  the  whole  party  rushed  into 
the  hall. 

A  short,  sanguinary,  but  decisive  conflict  took  place. 
The  hauberk  and  plaid  of  Wallace  were  dyed  from  head  to 
foot ;  his  own  brave  blood  and  the  ferocious  stream  from 
his  enemies  mingled  in  one  horrid  hue  upon  his  garments. 

"  Wallace  !  Wallace  !  "  cried  the  stentorian  lungs  of  Kirk- 
patrick.  In  a  moment  Wallace  was  at  his  side,  and  found 
him  struggling  with  two  men.  The  shadowing  light  of  a 
single  lamp,  suspended  from  the  rafters,  fell  direct  upon 
the  combatants.  A  dagger  was  pointed  at  the  life  of  the 
old  knight  at  the  very  instant  in  which  Wallace  laid  the 
holder  of  it  dead  across  his  body,  and  catching  the  other 
assailant  by  the  throat  he  threw  him  prostrate  to  the 
ground. 

"  Spare  me  for  the  honor  of  knighthood  !  "  cried  the 
conquered. 

"  For  my  honor  you  shall  die  !  "  cried  Kirkpatrick.  His 
sword  was  already  at  the  heart  of  the  Englishman. 

Wallace  beat  it  back.  "  Kirkpatrick,  he  is  my  prisoner, 
and  I  give  him  life." 

"  You  know  not  what  you  do,"  cried  the  old  knight, 
struggling  with  Wallace  to  release  his  sword  arm.  "  This 
is  De  Valence  !  " 

"  Grant  me  life  ! "  cried  the  panting  and  hard-pressed 
earl,  "  and  by  the  holy  Cross  Scotland  shall  never  see  me 
more  !     Noble  Wallace,  my  life  !  my  life  !  " 

*'  Sooner  take  my  own ! "  cried  the  determined  Kirk- 
patrick, fixing  his  foot  on  the  neck  of  the  prostrate  man, 
and  trying  to  wrench  his  hand  from  the  grasp  of  his 
commander. 

"  By  all  the  powers  of  Heaven  I  swear,"  cried  Wallace, 
"he  must  strike  through  my  heart  who  kills  any  Southron 


THE  FORTRESS.  1 95 

that  I  hear  cry  for  quarter !     Release  the  earl  on  his  word 
and  your  own  honor." 

"  Our  safety  lies  in  his  destruction  !  "  cried  Kirkpatrick, 
who,  enraged  at  opposition,  thrust  his  commander,  little 
expecting  such  an  action,  from  off  the  body  of  the  earl. 
De  Valence  seized  his  advantage,  and  catching  Kirk- 
patrick by  the  limb  that  pressed  on  him  overthrew  him,  and 
by  a  sudden  spring,  turning  quickly  on  Wallace,  struck  his 
dagger  into  his  side.  All  this  was  done  in  an  instant. 
Wallace  did  not  fall ;  but  staggering  with  the  weapon  stick- 
ing in  the  wound,  he  was  so  surprised  by  the  baseness  of 
the  deed  that  he  could  not  give  the  alarm  till  its  perpetrator 
had  disappeared. 

The  flying  earl  took  his  course  through  a  narrow  passage 
between  the  works;  and  proceeding  swiftly  towards  the 
south,  issued  at  one  of  the  outer  ballium  gates,  —  that  part 
of  the  castle  being  now  solitary,  as  all  the  men  had  been 
drawn  from  the  walls  to  the  contest  within,  —  and  made  his 
escape  in  a  fisher's  boat  across  the  Clyde. 

Meanwhile,  Wallace,  having  recovered  himself  just  as  the 
Scots  brought  in  lighted  torches  from  the  lower  apartments 
of  the  tower,  saw  Sir  Roger  Kirkpatrick  leaning  sternly  on 
his  blood-dripping  sword,  and  the  young  Edwin  coming 
forward  in  garments  too  near  the  hue  of  his  own. 

Andrew  Murray  was  already  by  his  side.  Wallace's 
hand  was  upon  the  hilt  of  the  dagger  which  the  ungrateful 
De  Valence  had  left  in  his  breast.  "  You  are  wounded  ! 
you  are  slain  !  "  cried  Murray,  in  a  voice  of  consternation. 
Edwin  stood  motionless  with  horror. 

"That  dagger!"  exclaimed  Scrymgeour. 
"Has  done    nothing,"  replied  Wallace,  "but  let  me    a 
little   more   blood."     As   he   spoke   he   drew   it   out,    and 
thrusting  the  corner  of  his  scarf  into  his  bosom,  stanched 
the  wound. 

"  So  is  your  mercy  rewarded  !  "  exclaimed  Kirkpatrick. 
"  So  am  I  true  to  my  duty,"  returned  Wallace,   "  though 
De  Valence  is  a  traitor  to  his  !  " 

"  You  treated  him  as  a  man,"  replied  Kirkpatrick ;  "  but 
now  you  find  he  is  a  wild  beast !  And  when  he  next  falls 
into  our  hands.  I  hope  you  will  allow  me  to  fulfil  my 
duty  in  ridding  the  world  of  such  a  monster !  " 


196  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

"  Your  eagerness,  my  brave  friend,"  returned  Wallace, 
"  has  lost  him  as  a  prisoner.  If  not  for  humanity  or  honor, 
for  policy's  sake  we  ought  to  have  spared  his  life,  and 
detained  him  as  a  hostage  for  our  own  countrymen  in 
England." 

Kirkpatrick  remembered  how  his  violence  had  released 
the  earl,  and  he  looked  down  abashed. 

Wallace,  perceiving  it,  continued  :  "  But  let  us  not  abuse 
our  time  in  discoursing  on  a  coward.  He  is  gone ;  the 
fortress  is  ours,  and  our  first  measure  must  be  to  guard 
it  from  surprise." 

As  he  spoke  his  eyes  fell  upon  Edwin,  who  having  re- 
covered from  the  shock  of  Murray's  exclamation  had 
brought  the  man  forward  who  was  the  surgeon  of  their 
little  band.  In  a  few  minutes  the  wounds  of  the  chief 
were  bound  up,  when  beckoning  the  anxious  boy  towards 
him,  "  Brave  youth  !  "  cried  he,  "  you  who  at  the  imminent 
risk  of  your  life  explored  these  heights  that  you  might 
render  our  ascent  more  sure,  —  you  who  have  fought  like  a 
young  lion  in  this  unequal  contest,  —  here,  in  the  face  of 
all  your  valiant  comrades,  receive  that  knighthood  which 
rather  derives  lustre  from  your  virtues  than  gives  additional 
consequence  to  your  name." 

With  a  bounding  heart  Edwin  bent  his  knee ;  and  Wal- 
lace giving  him  the  hallowed  accolade,^  the  young  knight 
rose  from  his  position  with  all  the  roses  of  his  springing 
fame  glowing  in  his  countenance.  Scrymgeour  presented 
him  the  knightly  girdle,  which  he  unbraced  from  his  own 
loins ;  and  while  the  happy  boy  received  the  sword  to 
which  it  was  attached,  he  exclaimed  with  animation: 
"While  I  follow  the  example  before  my  eyes,  I  shall 
never  draw  this  in  an  unjust  cause,  nor  ever  sheath  it  in 
a  just  one." 

"  Go,  then,"  returned  Wallace,  smiling  an  approval  of 
this  sentiment ;  "  while  work  is  to  be  done  I  will  keep  my 
knight  to  the  toil.  Go,  and  with  twenty  men  of  Lanark 
guard  the  wall  by  which  we  ascended." 

Edwin  disappeared  ;  and  having  dispatched  detachments 
to  occupy  other  parts  of  the  garrison,  Wallace  took  a  torch 
in  his  hand,  and  turning  to  Murray,  proposed  to  seek  the 

1  Accolade,  the  three  strokes  of  the  sword  given  in  knighting. 


THE  FORTRESS.  I97 

Earl  of  Mar.     Lord  Andrew  was  already  at  the  iron  door 
which  led  from  the  hall  to  the  principal  stairs. 

"  We  must  have  our  friendly  battering-ram  here  !  "  cried 
he  ;  "a  close  prisoner  do  they  indeed  make  my  uncle,  when 
even  the  inner  doors  are  bolted  on  him  !  " 

The  men  dragged  the  tree  forward,  and  striking  it  with 
all  their  strength  against  the  iron,  it  burst  open  with  the 
noise  of  thunder.  Shrieks  from  within  followed  the  sound. 
The  women  of  Lady  Mar,  not  knowing  what  to  suppose 
during  the  uproar  of  the  conflict,  now  hearing  the  door 
forced  expected  nothing  less  than  that  some  new  enemies 
were  advancing ;  and  giving  themselves  up  to  despair, 
they  flew  into  the  room  where  the  countess  sat  in  equal 
though  less  clamorous  terror. 

At  the  shouts  of  the  Scots  when  they  began  the  attack, 
the  earl  had  started  from  his  couch.  "  That  is  not  peace  ! " 
said  he ;  "  there  is  some  surprise  !  " 

"  Alas,  from  whom  ?  "  returned  Lady  Mar.  "  Who  would 
venture  to  attack  a  fortress  Uke  this,  garrisoned  with 
thousands  1 " 

The  cry  was  repeated. 

"  It  is  the  slogan  of  Sir  William  Wallace  !  "  cried  he. 
"  I  shall  be  free  !     Oh  for  a  sword  !     Hear  !  hear  !  " 

As  the  shouts  redoubled,  and  mingling  with  the  various 
clangors  of  battle,  drew  nearer  the  tower,  the  impatience 
of  the  earl  could  not  be  restrained.  Hope  and  eagerness 
seemed  to  have  dried  up  his  wounds  and  new-strung  every 
nerve ;  unarmed  as  he  was,  he  rushed  from  the  apartment, 
and  flew  down  the  stairs  which  led  to  the  iron  door.  He 
found  it  so  firmly  fastened  by  bars  and  padlocks  that  it  was 
not  to  be  moved.  Again  he  ascended  to  his  terrified  wife, 
who,  conscions  of  the  little  obligation  Wallace  owed  to  her, 
dreaded  as  much  to  see  her  husband's  hopes  realized  as  to 
find  herself  yet  more  rigidly  the  prisoner  of  the  haughty 
De  Valence. 

"Joanna!"  cried  he,  "the  arm  of  God  is  with  us.  My 
prayers  are  heard  ;  Scotland  will  yet  be  free.  Hear  those 
groans,  those  shouts.     Victory  !  victory  !  " 

As  he  thus  echoed  the  cry  of  triumph  uttered  by  the  Scots 
as  they  burst  open  the  outer  gate  of  the  tower,  the  founda- 
tions of  the  building  shook,  and  Lady  Mar,  almost  insensi- 


198  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

ble  with  terror,  received  the  exhausted  body  of  her  husband 
into  her  arms,  —  he  fainting  from  transport  his  weakened 
frame  was  unable  to  bear.  At  this  instant  the  panic-struck 
women  ran  shrieking  to  their  mistress. 

The  countess  could  not  speak,  but  sat  pale  and  motion- 
less, supporting  the  earl's  head  on  her  bosom.  Guided  by 
the  noise.  Lord  Andrew  flew  into  the  room,  and  rushing 
towards  his  uncle,  fell  at  his  feet.  "  Liberty  !  Liberty  !  " 
was  all  he  could  say.  His  words  pierced  the  ear  of  the 
earl  like  a  voice  from  heaven ;  and  looking  up,  without  a 
word  he  threw  his  arms  round  the  neck  of  his  nephew. 

Tears  relieved  the  contending  feelings  of  the  countess ; 
and  the  women,  recognizing  the  young  lord  of  Bothwell, 
retired  into  a  distant  corner,  well  assured  they  had  now  no 
cause  of  fear. 

The  earl  rested  but  a  moment  on  the  panting  breast  of 
his  nephew ;  and  looking  up  to  seek  the  mighty  leader  of 
the  band,  he  saw  Wallace  enter,  with  the  look  of  security 
and  triumph  in  his  eyes. 

"  Ever  my  deliverer !  "  cried  the  venerable  Mar,  stretch- 
ing forth  his  arms.  The  next  moment  he  held  Wallace  to 
his  breast ;  and  remembering  all  that  the  chief  of  Ellerslie 
had  lost  for  his  sake  since  they  parted,  a  soldier's  heart 
melted,  and  the  earl  burst  into  tears.  "  Wallace,  my  pre- 
server !  Thou  victim  for  Scotland  and  for  me  !  —  or  rather, 
thou  chosen  of  Heaven !  who,  by  the  sacrifice  of  all  thou 
didst  hold  dear  on  earth,  art  made  a  blessing  to  thy  coun- 
try !  receive  my  thanks  and  my  heart." 

Wallace  felt  all  in  his  soul  which  the  earl  meant  to  imply ; 
but  recovering  the  calmed  tone  of  his  mind  before  he  was 
released  from  the  embrace  of  his  friend,  when  he  raised 
himself  and  replied  to  the  acknowledgments  of  the  countess 
it  was  with  a  serene  though  glowing  countenance. 

She,  when  she  had  glanced  from  the  eager  entrance  and 
action  of  her  nephew  to  the  advancing  hero,  looked  as 
Venus  did  when  she  beheld  the  God  of  War  rise  from  a 
field  of  blood.  She  started  at  the  appearance  of  Wallace ; 
but  it  was  not  his  garments  dropping  gore,  nor  the  blood- 
stained falchion  in  his  hand,  that  caused  the  new  sensa- 
tion, —  it  was  the  figure,  breathing  youth  and  manhood ; 
it  was  the  face,  where  every  noble  passion  of  the  heart  had 


THE    GREAT  SQUARE    TOWER.  K^C^ 

stamped  itself  on  his  perfect  features ;  it  was  liis  air,  where 
majesty  and  sweet  entrancing  grace  mingled  in  lovely  un- 
ion. They  were  all  these  that  struck  at  once  upon  the 
sight  of  Lady  Mar,  and  made  her  exclaim  within  herself, 
"  This  is  a  god !  This  is  the  hero  that  is  to  humble  Ed- 
ward ;  that  is  to  bless  —  whom  ? "  was  her  thought.  "  Oh, 
no  woman !  Let  him  be  a  creature  enshrined  and  holy,  for 
no  female  heart  to  love  !  " 

This  passed  through  the  mind  of  the  countess  in  less 
time  than  it  has  been  repeated ;  and  when  she  saw  him 
clasped  in  her  husband's  arms,  she  exclaimed  to  herself, 
"  Helen,  thou  wert  right,  —  thy  gratitude  was  prophetic  of 
a  matchless  object;  while  I,  wretch  that  I  am,  even  whis- 
pered the  wish  to  myself,  while  I  gave  information  against 
my  husband,  that  this  man,  the  cause  of  all,  might  be 
secured  or  slain  !  " 

Just  as  the  last  idea  struck  her,  Wallace  rose  from  the 
embrace  of  his  venerable  friend,  and  met  the  riveted  eye 
of  the  countess.  She  stammered  forth  a  few  expressions 
of  obligation ;  he  attributed  her  confusion  to  the  surprise  of 
the  moment,  and  replying  to  her  respectfully,  turned  again 
to  the  earl. 

The  joy  of  the  venerable  chief  was  unbounded  when  he 
found  that  a  handful  of  Scots  had  put  two  thousand  South- 
rons to  flight,  and  gained  entire  possession  of  the  castle. 

Wallace,  having  satisfied  the  anxious  questions  of  his 
noble  auditor,  gladly  perceived  the  morning  light.  He  rose 
from  his  seat.  "  I  shall  take  a  temporary  leave  of  you,  my 
lord,"  said  he  to  the  earl.  "  I  must  now  visit  my  brave 
comrades  at  their  posts,  and  see  the  colors  of  Scotland 
planted  on  the  citadel." 


CHAPTER   XXIIL 

THE   GREAT   SQUARE   TOWER. 

WHEN    Wallace    withdrew.    Lady    Mar,    who    had 
detained  Murray,  whispered  to  him,  while  a  blush 
stained  her  cheek,  that  she  should  like  to  be  present  at  the 


200  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

planting  of  the  standard.  Lord  Mar  heard  her;  and  say- 
ing that  fear  of  alarming  her  spirits  had  alone  prevented 
his  expressing  a  similar  desire,  he  declared  his  willingness 
to  accompany  her  to  the  spot,  and  added  :  "  I  can  be  sup- 
ported thither  by  the  arm  of  Andrew ;  for  sorry  should  I 
be  to  be  absent  from  so  glorious  a  sight." 

Though  eager  as  themselves  to  be  there,  yet  Murray 
hesitated.  "It  will  be  impossible  for  my  aunt  to  go;  the 
hall  below  and  the  ground  before  the  tower  are  covered 
with  slain." 

"  Let  them  be  cleared,  then,"  said  she,  hastily ;  "  for  I 
cannot  consent  to  be  deprived  of  a  spectacle  so  honorable 
to  my  country." 

Murray  regarded  the  pitiless  indifference  with  which  she 
gave  this  order  with  amazement.  "  To  do  that,  madam," 
said  he,  "  is  beyond  my  power,  as  the  whole  ceremony  of 
the  colors  would  be  completed  long  before  I  could  clear 
the  earth  of  half  its  bleeding  load.  I  will  seek  a  passage 
for  you  by  some  other  way." 

Before  the  earl  could  make  a  remark,  Murray  had  disap- 
peared ;  and  after  exploring  the  lower  part  of  the  tower  in 
unavailing  search  for  a  way  to  the  inner  ballium,  he  met 
Sir  Roger  Kirkpatrick  issuing  from  a  small  door,  which, 
being  in  shadow,  he  had  hitherto  overlooked.  It  led  through 
the  ballium  to  the  platform  before  the  citadel.  Lord 
Andrew  returned  to  his  uncle  and  aunt,  and  informing 
them  of  this  discovery  gave  his  arm  to  Lord  Mar,  while 
Kirkpatrick  led  forward  the  agitated  countess.  At  this 
moment  the  sun  rose  behind  the  purple  summit  of  Ben 
Lomond. 

As  they  approached  the  citadel,  Wallace  and  Sir  Alex- 
ander Scrymgeour  had  already  gained  the  summit.  The 
standard  of  Edward  was  yet  flying.  Wallace  looked  at  it 
for  a  moment,  and  then  laying  his  hand  on  the  staff,  "  Down, 
thou  red  dragon  !  "  cried  he,  "  and  learn  to  bow  before  the 
Giver  of  all  Victory ! "  As  he  spoke,  he  rent  it  from  the 
roof;  and  casting  it  over  the  battlements,  planted  the  Lion 
of  Scotland  in  its  stead. 

As  the  vast  evolvements  floated  on  the  air,  the  cry  of 
triumph,  the  loud  clarion  of  victory,  burst  from  every  heart, 
horn,  and  trumpet  below.     It  was  a  shout  that  pierced  the 


THE   GREAT  SQUARE    TOWER.  201 

skies,  and  entered  the  soul  of  Wallace  with  a  bliss  which 
seemed  a  promise  of  immortality. 

"  O  God  !  "  cried  he,  still  grasping  the  staff,  and  looking 
up  to  heaven,  "  we  got  not  this  in  possession  through  our 
own  might ;  but  thy  right  hand  and  the  light  of  thy  coun- 
tenance overthrew  the  enemy  !  Thine  the  conquest,  thine 
the  glory !  " 

"  And  thus  we  consecrate  the  day  to  thee,  O  Power  of 
Heaven!"  rejoined  Scrymgeour.  "Let  this  standard  be 
thine  own ;  and  whithersoever  we  bear  it,  the  result  will  be 
victory  ! " 

Wallace,  dropping  on  his  knee,  crossed  it  with  his  sword 
in  token  that  he  subscribed  to  the  vow,  and  rising  again 
took  Sir  Alexander  by  the  hand.  "  My  brave  friend,"  said 
he,  "we  have  here  planted  the  tree  of  freedom  in  Scotland. 
Should  I  die  in  its  defence,  swear  to  bury  me  under  its 
branches ;  swear  that  no  enslaved  ground  shall  cover  my 
remains ! " 

"  I  swear,"  cried  Scrymgeour,  laying  his  crossed  hands 
upon  the  arm  of  Wallace.  "  I  swear  with  a  double  vow,  — 
by  the  blood  of  my  brave  ancestors,  whose  valor  gave  me 
the  name  I  bear;  by  the  cross  of  Saint  Andrew,  and  by 
your  valiant  self,  —  never  to  sheathe  my  sword  while  I  have 
life  in  my  body,  until  Scotland  be  free  !  " 

The  colors  fixed,  Wallace  and  his  brave  colleague  de- 
scended the  tower,  and  perceiving  the  earl  and  countess, 
who  sat  on  a  stone  bench  at  the  end  of  the  platform,  ap- 
proached them.  The  countess  rose  as  the  chiefs  drew 
near.  Lord  Mar  caught  his  friend  by  the  hand,  with  a 
gratulation  in  his  eyes  that  was  unutterable,  tlis  lady 
spoke,  hardly  conscious  of  what  she  said ;  and  Wallace, 
after  a  few  minutes'  discourse,  proposed  to  the  earl  to 
retire  with  Lady  Mar  into  the  citadel,  where  she  would  be 
more  suitably  lodged  than  in  the  square  tower. 

Lord  Mar  was  obeying  this  movement,  when  suddenly 
stopping,  he  exclaimed,  "  But  where  is  that  wondrous  boy 
who  was  your  pilot  over  these  perilous  rocks?  Let  me 
give  him  a  soldier's  thanks." 

Happy  at  so  grateful  a  demand,  Wallace  beckoned  Ed- 
win, who,  just  reheved  from  his  guard,  was  standing  at 
some  distance.     He  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  putting  it 


202  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

into  that  of  the  earl,  "  Here,"  said  he,  "  is  my  knight  of  fif- 
teen ;  and  last  night  he  proved  himself  more  worthy  of  his 
spurs  than  many  a  man  who  has  received  them  from  the 
hands  of  a  king." 

"  He  shall  wear  those  of  a  king,"  rejoined  the  Lord  Mar, 
unbuckling  from  his  feet  a  pair  of  golden  spurs.  "  These 
were  fastened  on  my  heels  by  our  great  King  Alexander, 
at  the  battle  of  Largs.  I  had  intended  them  for  my  only 
son ;  but  the  first  knight  in  the  cause  of  rescued  Scotland 
doubles  that  blessing,  —  he  is  the  son  of  my  heart  and 
soul ! " 

As  he  spoke  he  would  have  pressed  the  young  hero  to  his 
breast ;  but  Edwin,  trembling  with  emotion,  slid  down  upon 
his  knees,  and  clasping  the  earl's  hand  to  his  heart,  said,  in 
a  hardly  audible  voice,  "  Receive  and  pardon  the  truant 
son  of  your  sister  Ruthven  !  " 

"  What !"  exclaimed  the  veteran,  "is  it  Edwin  Ruthven 
that  has  brought  me  this  weight  of  glory  ?  Come  to  my 
arms,  thou  dearest  child  of  my  dearest  Janet ! " 

The  uncle  and  nephew  were  folded  in  each  other's  em- 
brace. Lady  Mar  wept;  and  Wallace,  unable  to  bear  the 
remembrances  which  such  a  scene  pressed  upon  his  heart, 
turned  away  towards  the  battlements.  Edwin  murmured  a 
short  explanation  in  the  ear  of  his  uncle;  and  then  rising 
from  his  arms,  with  his  beautiful  face  glittering  like  an 
April  day  in  tears,  allowed  his  gay  cousin  Murray  to  buckle 
the  royal  spurs  on  his  feet.  The  rite  over,  he  kissed  Lord 
Andrew's  hand  in  token  of  acknowledgment,  and  called  on 
Sir  William  Wallace  to  bless  the  new  honors  conferred  on 
his  knight. 

Wallace  turned  round,  and  stretching  forth  his  hand  to 
Edwin,  with  a  smile  which  partook  more  of  heaven  than 
earth,  replied,  "  Have  we  not  performed  our  mutual  pro- 
mises ?  I  brought  you  to  the  spot  where  you  were  to  reveal 
your  name,  and  you  have  declared  it  to  me  by  the  voice  of 
glory !  Come,  then,  my  brother,  let  us  leave  your  uncle 
awhile  to  seek  his  repose." 

As  he  spoke,  he  bowed  to  the  countess ;  and  Edwin  joy- 
fully taking  his  arm,  they  walked  together  towards  the 
eastern  postern. 

Agitated  with  the  delightful  surprise  of  thus  meeting  his 


THE    GREAT  SQUARE    TOWER.  203 

favorite  sister's  son,  a  child  whom  he  had  never  seen 
since  its  infancy,  and  exhausted  by  the  variety  of  his 
late  emotions,  the  earl  readily  acquiesced  in  a  proposal 
for  rest,  and  leaning  on  Lord  Andrew,  proceeded  to  the 
citadel. 

The  countess  had  other  attractions.  Lingering  at  the 
side  of  the  rough  knight  of  Torthorald,  she  looked  back ; 
and  when  she  saw  the  object  of  her  gaze  disappear  through 
the  gates,  she  sighed,  and  turning  to  her  conductor,  walked 
by  him  in  silence  till  they  joined  her  husband  in  the  hall  of 
the  keep.  Murray  led  the  way  into  the  apartments  lately 
occupied  by  De  Valence.  They  were  furnished  witli  all 
the  luxur}'  of  a  Southron  nobleman.  Lady  Mar  cast  her 
eyes  around  the  splendid  chamber,  and  seated  herself  on 
one  of  its  tapestried  couches.  The  earl,  not  marking 
whether  it  were  silk  or  rushes,  placed  himself  beside  her. 
Murray  drew  a  stool  towards  them,  while  Kirkpatrick,  tired 
of  his  gallant  duty,  abruptly  took  his  leave. 

"  My  dear  Andrew,"  said  the  earl,  "  in  the  midst  of  this 
proud  rejoicing  there  is  yet  a  canker  at  my  heart.  Tell  me 
that  when  my  beloved  Helen  disappeared  in  the  tumult  at 
Bothwell  she  was  under  your  protection  !  " 

"She  was,"  replied  Murray;  "and  I  thank  the  holy 
Saint  Fillan  she  is  now  in  the  sanctuary  of  his  church." 

Murray  then  recounted  to  his  relieved  uncle  the  events 
which  had  happened  to  him  from  the  moment  of  his  with- 
drawing behind  the  arras,  to  his  confiding  the  English 
soldier  with  the  iron  box  to  the  care  of  the  prior.  Lord 
Mar  sighed  heavily  when  he  spoke  of  that  mysterious 
casket.  "  Whatever  it  contains,"  said  he,"  it  has  drawn  after 
it  much  evil  and  much  good.  The  domestic  peace  of  Wal- 
lace was  ruined  by  it ;  and  the  spirit  which  now  restores 
Scotland  to  herself  was  raised  by  his  wrongs !  But  tell 
me,"  added  he,  "  do  you  think  my  daughter  is  safe,  so  near 
a  garrison  of  the  enemy  ?  " 

"  Surely,  my  lord,"  said  the  countess,  well  remembering 
the  enthusiasm  with  which  Helen  had  regarded  even  the 
unknown  Wallace,  —  "  surely  you  would  not  bring  that 
tender  child  into  a  scene  like  this !  Rather  send  a  messen- 
ger to  convey  her  secretly  to  Thirlestane ;  there  she  will  be 
safe  under  the  protection  of  her  grandfather." 


204  "^^^  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

The  earl  acquiesced  in  her  opinion ;  and  saying  that  he 
would  consult  with  Wallace  about  the  securest  mode  of 
travel  for  his  daughter,  he  again  turned  to  Lord  Andrew  to 
learn  further  of  their  late  proceedings.  But  the  countess, 
uneasy  at  this  determination,  once  more  interrupted  him. 

"  Alas,  my  lord,  what  would  you  do  ?  His  generous  zeal 
will  offer  to  go  in  person  for  your  daughter.  We  know  not 
what  dangers  he  may  then  incur  ;  and  surely  the  champion 
of  Scotland  is  not  to  be  thrown  into  peril  for  any  domestic 
concern !  If  you  really  feel  the  weight  of  the  evils  into 
which  you  have  plunged  Sir  William  Wallace,  do  not 
increase  it  by  even  hinting  to  him  the  present  subject  of 
your  discourse." 

"  My  aunt  is  an  oracle  !  "  resumed  Murray.  "  Allow  me 
to  be  the  happy  knight  that  is  to  bear  the  surrender  of 
Dumbarton  to  my  sweet  cousin.  Prevail  on  Wallace  to 
remain  in  this  garrison  till  I  return ;  and  then  full  tilt  for 
the  walls  of  old  Stirling,  and  the  downfall  of  Hughie 
Cressingham ! " 

Both  the  countess  and  the  earl  were  pleased  with  this 
arrangement.  The  latter,  by  the  persuasions  of  his  nephew, 
retired  into  an  inner  chamber  to  repose ;  and  the  former 
desired  Lord  Andrew  to  inform  Wallace  that  she  should 
expect  to  be  honored  with  his  presence  at  noon  to  partake 
of  such  fare  as  the  garrison  afforded. 

On  Murray's  coming  from  the  citadel  he  learned  that 
Wallace  was  gone  towards  the  great  tower.  He  followed 
him  thither ;  and,  on  issuing  from  the  postern  which  led  to 
that  part  of  the  rock,  he  saw  the  chief  standing  with  his 
helmet  off  in  the  midst  of  the  slain. 

"  This  is  a  horrid  sight !  "  said  he  to  Murray,  as  he  ap- 
proached ;  "but  it  shall  not  long  lie  thus  exposed.  I  have 
just  ordered  that  these  sad  wrecks  of  human  nature  may  be 
lowered  into  the  Clyde ;  its  rushing  stream  will  soon  carry 
them  to  a  quiet  grave  beneath  yon  peaceful  sea."  His  own 
dead,  amounting  Xo  no  more  than  fifteen,  were  to  be  buried 
at  the  foot  of  the  rock,  a  prisoner  in  the  castle  having 
described  steps  in  the  cliff  by  which  the  solemnity  could 
easily  be  performed. 

"  But  why,  my  dear  commander,"  cried  Lord  Andrew, 
"  why  do  you  take  any  thought  about  our  enemies .-'     Leave 


THE    GREAT  SQUARE    TOWER.  205 

them  where  they  are,  and  the  eagles  of  our  mountains  will 
soon  find  them  graves." 

"  For  shame,  Murray  !  "  was  the  reply  of  Wallace.  "  They 
are  dead,  and  our  enemies  no  more.  They  are  men  like 
ourselves,  and  shall  we  deny  them  a  place  in  that  earth 
whence  we  all  sprung  ?  We  war  not  with  human  nature. 
Are  we  not  rather  the  assertors  of  her  rights  ?  " 

"  I  know,"  replied  Lord  Andrew,  blushing,  "  that  I  am 
often  the  assertor  of  my  own  folly,  and  I  do  not  know  how 
you  will  forgive  my  inconsiderate  impertinence." 

"  Because  it  was  inconsiderate,"  replied  Wallace.  "  Inhu- 
manity is  too  stern  a  guest  to  live  in  such  a  breast  as 
yours." 

"  If  I  ever  gave  her  quarters,"  replied  Murray,  "  I  should 
most  wofully  disgrace  the  companion  she  would  meet  there. 
Next  to  the  honor  of  fair  Scotland,  my  cousin  Helen  is  the 
goddess  of  my  idolatry ;  and  she  would  forswear  my  love  and 
kindred  could  she  believe  me  capable  of  feeling  otherwise 
than  in  unison  with  Sir  William  Wallace." 

Wallace  looked  towards  him  with  a  benign  pleasure  in 
his  countenance.  "  Your  sweet  cousin  does  me  honor,  and 
William  Wallace  cannot  but  be  proud  of  such  appro- 
bation." 

"  Ah,  my  noble  friend,"  cried  Murray,  lowering  his  gay 
tone  to  one  of  softer  expression,  "  if  you  knew  all  her  good- 
ness, all  the  amiableness  that  dwells  in  her  gentle  heart, 
you  would  indeed  esteem  her,  —  you  would  love  her  as  I 
do." 

The  blood  fled  from  the  cheek  of  Wallace.  "  Not  as 
you  do,  Murray.  I  can  no  more  love  woman  as  you  do 
her.  Such  scenes  as  these,"  cried  he,  turning  to  the  man- 
gled bodies,  which  the  men  were  now  carrying  away  to  the 
precipice  of  the  Clyde,  "  have  divorced  woman's  love  from 
my  heart.     I  am  all  my  country's,  or  I  am  nothing." 

"  Nothing !  "  reiterated  Murray,  laying  his  hand  upon 
that  of  Wallace  as  it  rested  upon  the  hilt  of  the  sword  on 
which  he  leaned.  "  Is  the  friend  of  mankind,  the  champion 
of  Scotland,  the  beloved  of  a  thousand  valuable  hearts, 
nothing.?  Nay,  art  thou  not  the  agent  of  Heaven  to  be 
the  scourge  of  a  tyrant?  Art  thou  not  the  deliverer  of  thy 
country .?  " 


206  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

Wallace  turned  his  bright  eye  upon  Murray  with  an 
expression  of  mingled  feelings.  "May  I  be  all  this,  my 
friend,  and  Wallace  will  yet  be  happy !  But  speak  not  to 
me  of  love  and  woman.  Tell  me  not  of  those  endearing 
qualities  I  have  prized  too  tenderly,  and  which  are  now 
buried  to  me  forever  beneath  the  ashes  of  Ellerslie." 

"  Not  under  the  ashes  of  Ellerslie,"  cried  Murray,  "sleep 
the  remains  of  your  lovely  wife."  Wallace's  penetrating 
eye  turned  quick  upon  him.  Murray  continued :  "  My 
cousin's  pitying  soul  stretched  itself  towards  them ;  by 
her  directions  they  were  brought  from  the  oratory  in  the 
rock,  and  deposited,  with  all  holy  rites,  in  the  cemetery  at 
Bothwell." 

The  glow  that  now  animated  the  before  chilled  heart  of 
Wallace  overspread  his  face.  His  eyes  spoke  volumes  of 
gratitude,  his  lips  moved.  But  his  feelings  were  too  big  for 
utterance ;  and  fervently  pressing  the  hand  of  Murray,  to 
conceal  emotions  ready  to  shake  his  manhood  he  turned 
away  and  walked  towards  the  cliff. 

When  all  the  slain  were  lowered  to  their  last  beds,  a 
young  priest  in  the  company  of  Scrymgeour  gave  the  fune- 
ral benediction,  both  to  the  departed  in  the  waves,  and 
those  whom  the  shore  received.  The  rites  over,  Murray 
again  drew  near  to  Wallace  and  delivered  his  aunt's 
message. 

"  I  shall  obey  her  commands,"  returned  he  ;  "  but  first 
we  must  visit  our  wounded  prisoners  in  the  tower.  There 
are  above  three  hundred  of  them,  whom  Edwin  and  I  dis- 
covered amongst  the  dead." 

Murray  gladly  obeyed  the  impulse  of  his  leader's  arm ; 
and  followed  by  the  chiefs  who  had  returned  from  the  late 
solemn  duty,  entered  the  tower. 

Ireland  met  them  in  the  porch,  and  welcomed  Wallace 
with  the  intelligence  that  he  hoped  he  had  succored  friends 
instead  of  foes, — for  that  most  of  the  prisoners  were  poor 
Welsh  peasants,  v.hom  Edward  had  torn  from  their  moun- 
tains to  serve  in  his  legions,  and  a  few  Irish,  who  in  heat  of 
blood  and  eagerness  for  adventure  had  enlisted  in  his  ranks. 
"  I  have  shown  to  them,"  continued  Ireland,  "what  fools 
they  are  to  injure  themselves  in  us.  I  told  the  Welsh  they 
were  clinching  their  chains  by  assisting  to  extend  the  do- 


THE   GREAT  SQUARE    TOWER.  20/ 

minion  of  their  conqueror;  and  I  have  convinced  the  Irish 
they  were  forging  fetters  for  themselves  by  lending  their 
help  to  enslave  their  brother  nation,  the  free-born  Scots. 
They  only  require  your  presence,  my  lord,  to  forswear  their 
former  leaders,  and  to  enlist  under  Scottish  banners." 

"  Thou  art  an  able  orator,  my  good  Stephen,"  returned 
Wallace  ;  "  and  whatever  promises  thou  has  made  to  hon- 
est men  in  the  name  of  Scotland,  we  are  ready  to  ratify 
them.  Is  it  not  so?  "  added  he,  turning  to  Kirkpatrick  and 
Scrymgeour. 

"  All  as  you  will,"  replied  they  in  one  voice. 

"  Yes,"  added  Kirkpatrick ;  "  you  were  the  first  to  rise 
for  Scotland,  and  who  but  you  has  a  right  to  command  for 
her  ?  " 

Ireland  threw  open  the  door  which  led  into  the  hall ;  and 
there  on  the  ground,  on  pallets  of  straw,  lay  most  of  the 
wounded  Southrons.  Some  of  their  dimmed  eyes  had  dis- 
cerned their  preserver  when  he  discovered  them  expiring 
on  the  rock  ;  and  on  sight  of  him  now  they  uttered  such  a 
piercing  cry  of  gratitude  that,  surprised,  he  stood  for  a  mo- 
ment. In  that  moment  already  five  or  six  of  the  poor 
wounded  wretches  had  crawled  to  his  feet.  "  Our  enemy  !  — 
our  preserver  ! "  burst  from  their  lips,  as  they  kissed  the 
hem  of  his  garment. 

"  Not  to  me,  not  to  me,"  exclaimed  Wallace.  "  I  am  a 
soldier  like  yourselves ;  I  have  only  acted  a  soldier's  part. 
But  I  am  a  soldier  of  freedom  ;  you,  of  a  tvrant  who  seeks 
to  enslave  the  world.  This  makes  the  difference  between 
us;  this  lays  you  at  my  feet,  when  I  would  more  willingly 
receive  you  to  my  arms  as  brothers  in  one  generous  cause." 

"  We  are  yours,"  was  the  answering  exclamation  of  those 
who  knelt,  and  of  those  who  raised  their  feebler  voices  from 
their  beds  of  straw.  A  few  only  remained  silent.  With 
many  kind  expressions  of  acceptance,  Wallace  disengaged 
himself  from  those  who  clung  around  him ;  and  moved  to- 
wards the  sick  who  seemed  too  ill  to  speak. 

While  repeating  the  same  consolatory  language  to  them, 
Wallace  observed  an  old  man,  who  lay  between  two  young 
ones,  still  keep  a  profound  silence.  His  rough  features 
were  marked  with  many  a  scar;  but  there  was  a  meek 
resignation  in  his  face  that  powerfully  struck  Wallace.     As 


208  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

the  chief  drew  near,  the  veteran  raised  himself  on  his  arm 
and  bowed  his  head  with  a  respectful  air.  Wallace  stopped. 
"  You  are  an  Englishman  ?  " 

"  I  am,  sir,  and  I  have  no  services  to  offer  you.  These 
two  young  men  on  each  side  of  me  are  my  sons.  Their 
brother  I  lost  last  night  in  the  conflict.  To-day,  by  your 
mercy,  not  only  my  life  is  preserved,  but  my  two  remaining 
children  also.  Yet  I  am  an  Englishman,  and  I  cannot  be 
grateful  at  the  expense  of  my  allegiance." 

"  Nor  would  I  require  it  of  you,"  returned  Wallace. 
"  These  brave  Welsh  and  Irish  were  brought  hitlier  by  the 
oppressor  who  subjugates  their  countries ;  they  owe  him  no 
duty.  But  you  are  a  free  subject  of  England.  He  that  is 
a  tyrant  over  others  can  only  be  a  king  to  you ;  he  must  be 
the  guardian  of  your  laws,  the  defender  of  your  liberties,  or 
his  sceptre  falls.  Having  sworn  to  follow  a  sovereign  so 
plighted,  I  am  not  severe  enough  to  condemn  you  because, 
misled  by  that  phantom  which  he  calls  glory,  you  have  suf- 
fered him  to  betray  you  into  unjust  conquests." 

"  Once  I  have  been  so  misled,"  returned  the  old  man, 
"  but  never  can  I  be  again.  Fifty  years  I  have  fought 
under  the  British  standard,  in  Normandy  and  in  Palestine ; 
and  now  in  my  old  age,  with  four  sons,  I  followed  the 
armies  of  my  sovereign  into  Scotland.  My  eldest  I  lost  in 
the  plains  of  Dunbar.  My  second  fell  last  night ;  and  my 
two  youngest  are  now  by  my  side.  You  have  saved  them 
and  me.  What  can  I  do .''  Not,  as  your  noble  self  says, 
forswear  my  country.  But  this  I  swear,  —  and  in  the  oath 
do  you,  my  sons,  join  [as  he  spoke  they  laid  their  crossed 
hands  upon  his,  in  token  of  assent],  —  never  to  raise  our 
swords  against  England,  and,  with  like  faith,  never  to  lift 
an  arm  against  Sir  William  Wallace  or  the  cause  of  in- 
jured Scotland  ! " 

"  To  this  we  also  subjoin  !  "  cried  several  other  men,  who 
comprised  the  whole  of  the  English  prisoners. 

"  Noble  people  !  "  cried  Wallace  ;  "  why  have  you  not 
a  king  worthy  of  you  !  " 

"And  yet,"  said  Kirkpatrick,  in  a  surly  tone,  "  Hesel- 
rigge  was  one  of  these  people  ! " 

Wallace  turned  upon  him  with  a  look  of  so  tremendous  a 
meaning  that,  awed  by  an  expression  too  mighty  for  him  to 


THE    GREAT  SQUARE    TOWER.  209 

comprehend,  he  fell  back  a  few  paces,  muttering  curses,  — 
but  on  whom  could  not  be  heard. 

"  That  man  would  arouse  the  tiger  in  our  lion-hearted 
chief!"  whispered  Scrymgeour  to  Murray. 

"  Ay,"  returned  he,  "  but  the  royal  spirit  keeps  the  beast 
in  awe.  See  how  coweringly  that  bold  brow  now  bows  be- 
fore it ! " 

Wallace  marked  the  impression  his  glance  had  made; 
and  where  he  had  struck,  being  unwilling  to  pierce  also,  he 
dispelled  the  thunder  from  his  countenance,  and  once  more 
looking  on  Sir  Roger  with  a  frank  serenity, "  Come,"  said  he, 
"  my  good  knight ;  you  must  not  be  more  tenacious  for  Wil- 
liam Wallace  than  he  is  for  himself!  While  he  possesses 
such  a  zealous  friend  as  Kirkpatrick  of  Torthorald,  he  need 
not  now  fear  the  arms  of  a  thousand  Heselriggfes." 

"  No,  nor  of  Edwards  neither  !  "  cried  Kirkpatrick,  once 
more  looking  boldly  up,  and  shaking  his  broad  claymore. 
"  My  thistle  has  a  point  to  sting  all  to  the  death  who  pass 
between  this  arm  and  my  leader's  breast." 

"  May  Heaven  long  preserve  the  valiant  Wallace  !  "  was 
the  prayer  of  every  feeble  voice,  as  he  left  the  hall  to  visit 
his  own  wounded,  who  were  in  an  upper  chamber. 

The  interview  was  short  and  satisfactory.  "  Ah,  sir," 
cried  one  of  them,  "  I  cannot  tell  how  it  is,  but  when  I  see 
you  I  feel  as  if  I  beheld  the  very  soul  of  my  country,  or  its 
guardian  angel,  standing  before  me,  —  a  something  I  can- 
not describe,  but  it  fills  me  with  courage  and  comfort !  " 

"  You  see  an  honest  Scot  standing  before  you,  my  good 
Duncan,"  replied  Wallace  ;  "  and  that  is  no  mean  person- 
age, for  it  is  one  who  knows  no  use  of  his  life  but  as  it  ful- 
fils his  duty  to  his  country." 

"  Oh  that  the  sound  of  that  voice  could  penetrate  to 
every  ear  in  Scotland !"  rejoined  the  soldier;  "  it  would 
be  more  than  the  call  of  a  trumpet  to  bring  them  to  the 
field !  " 

"  And  from  the  summit  of  this  rock  many  have  already 
heard  it,  and  more  shall  be  aroused  ! "  cried  Murray,  re- 
turning from  the  door,  to  which  one  of  his  men  had  beck- 
oned him.  "  Here  is  a  man  come  to  announce  that  Mal- 
colm, Earl  of  Lennox,  passing  by  the  foot  of  this  rock,  saw 
the  Scottish  standard  flying  from  its  citadel ;  and,  as 
VOL.  I.  —  14 


210  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

amazed  as  overjoyed  at  the  sight,  has  sent  to  request  the 
favor  of  being  admitted." 

"  Let  me  bring  him  hither,"  interrupted  Kirkpatrick ;  "  he 
is  brave  as  the  day,  and  will  be  a  noble  auxiliary." 

"  Every  true  Scot  must  be  welcome  to  these  walls," 
returned  Wallace. 

Kirkpatrick  hastened  from  the  tower  to  the  northern  side 
of  the  rock,  at  the  foot  of  which  stood  the  earl  and  his 
train.  With  all  the  pride  of  a  freeman  and  a  victor,  Sir 
Roger  descended  the  height. 

Lennox  advanced  to  meet  him.  "  What  is  it  I  see  ? 
Sir  Roger  Kirkpatrick  master  of  this  citadel,  and  our  king's 
colors  flying  from  its  towers  !  Where  is  Earl  de  Valence .'' 
Where  the  English  garrison  ?  " 

"  The  English  garrison,"  replied  Kirkpatrick,  "  are  now, 
twelve  hundred  men,  beneath  the  waters  of  the  Clyde. 
De  Valence  has  fled ;  and  this  fortress,  manned  with  a  few 
hardy  Scots,  shall  sink  into  the  waves  before  it  again  see 
the  English  dragon  on  its  walls." 

"  And  you,  noble  knight !  "  cried  Lennox,  "  have  achieved 
all  this  ?  You  are  the  dawn  to  a  blessed  day  for  Scot- 
land ! " 

"  No,"  replied  Kirkpatrick ;  "  I  am  but  a  follower  of  the 
man  who  has  struck  the  blow.  Sir  William  Wallace  of 
Ellerslie  is  our  chief ;  and  with  the  power  of  his  virtues  he 
subdues  not  only  friends  but  enemies  to  his  command." 

He  then  exultingly  narrated  the  happy  events  of  the  last 
four-and-twenty  hours.  The  earl  listened  with  wonder  and 
joy.  "What!"  cried  he,  "so  noble  a  plan  for  Scotland, 
and  I  ignorant  of  it? — I,  that  have  not  waked  or  slept, 
day  or  night,  for  many  a  month,  without  thinking  or  dream- 
ing of  some  enterprise  to  free  my  country.  And  behold, 
it  is  achieved  in  a  moment  !  I  see  the  stroke  as  a  bolt 
from  Heaven;  and  I  pray  Heaven  it  may  light  the  sacrifice 
throughout  the  nation  !  Lead  me,  worthy  knight,  lead  me 
to  your  chief ;  for  he  shall  be  mine  too,  —  he  shall  command 
Malcolm  Lennox  and  all  his  clan." 

Kirkpatrick  gladly  turned  to  obey  him,  and  they  mounted 
the  ascent  together.  Within  the  barbacan  gate  stood 
Wallace,  with  Scrymgeour  and  Murray.  The  earl  knew 
Scrymgeour  well,   having  often  seen  him  in  the  field  as 


THE   GREAT  SQUARE    TOWER.  211 

hereditary  standard-bearer  of  the  kingdom ;  of  the  persons 
of  the  others  he  was  ignorant. 

*'  There  is  Wallace  !  "  exclaimed  Kirkpatrick. 

"  Not  one  of  those  very  young  men  ?  "  interrogated  the 
earl. 

"  Even  so,"  was  the  answer  of  the  knight ;  "  but  his  is 
the  youth  of  the  brave  son  of  Ammon.  Gray  beards  are 
glad  to  bow  before  his  golden  locks,  for  beneath  them  is 
wisdom." 

As  he  spoke  they  entered  the  barbacan ;  and  Wallace, 
whom  the  penetrating  eye  of  Lennox  had  already  singled 
out  for  the  chief,  advanced  to  meet  his  guest. 

"  Earl,"  said  he,  "  you  are  welcome  to  Dumbarton  castle." 

"  Bravest  of  my  countrymen  !  "  returned  Lennox,  clasping 
him  in  his  arms,  "  receive  a  soldier's  embrace,  receive  the 
gratitude  of  a  loyal  heart !  Accept  my  services,  my  arms, 
my  men;  my  all  I  devote  to  Scotland  and  the  great 
cause ! " 

Wallace  for  a  moment  did  not  answer,  but  warmly 
straining  the  earl  to  his  breast  said,  as  he  released  him, 
"Such  support  will  give  sinews  to  our  power.  A  few 
months,  and,  with  the  blessing  of  that  arm  which  has 
already  mowed  down  the  ranks  which  opposed  us,  we  shall 
see  Scotland  at  Hberty." 

"And  may  Heaven,  brave  Wallace,"  exclaimed  Lennox, 
"  grant  us  thine  arm  to  wield  its  scythe  !  But  how  have 
you  accomplished  this?  How  have  your  few  overthrown 
this  English  host .''  " 

"  He  strikes  home  when  right  points  his  sword,"  replied 
Wallace.  "  The  injuries  of  Scotland  were  my  guide,  and 
justice  my  companion.  We  feared  nothing,  for  God  was 
with  us ;  we  feared  nothing,  and  in  his  might  we  conquered." 

"  And  shall  yet  conquer ! "  cried  Lennox,  kindling  with 
the  enthusiasm  that  blazed  from  the  eyes  of  Wallace.  "  I 
feel  the  strength  of  our  cause,  and  from  this  hour  I  devote 
myself  to  assert  it  or  to  die." 

"  Not  to  die,  my  noble  lord,"  said  Murray ;  "  we  have 
yet  many  an  eve  to  dance  over  the  buried  fetters  of  Scot- 
land. And  as  a  beginning  of  our  jollities,  I  must  remind 
our  leader  that  my  aunt's  board  awaits  him." 

Lord  Lennox  understood  from  this  address  that  it  was 


212  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

the  brave  Murray  who  spoke  to  him ;  for  he  had  heard 
sufficient  from  Sir  Roger  Kirkpatrick  to  explain  how  the 
Countess  of  Mar  and  her  patriot  husband  came  within  the 
castle. 

The  countess  had  arrayed  herself  with  all  her  powers  to 
receive  her  deliverer,  and  awaited  the  hour  of  his  arrival 
with  an  emotion  at  her  heart  which  made  it  bound  against 
her  bosom  when  she  saw  the  object  of  her  wishes  advancing 
along  the  platform.  All  others  were  lost  to  her,  as  in  a 
mist ;  and  hastily  rising  from  the  window  as  the  chiefs 
entered  the  porch,  she  crossed  the  room  to  meet  them  at 
the  door. 

The  Earl  of  Lennox  stood  amazed  at  the  sight  of  so 
much  beauty  and  splendor  in  such  a  scene.  Lady  Mar  had 
hardly  attained  her  thirty-fifth  year;  but  from  the  graces 
of  her  person,  and  the  address  with  which  she  set  forth 
all  her  charms,  the  enchanted  gazer  found  it  impossible  to 
suppose  her  more  than  three  or  four  and  twenty.  Thus 
happily  formed  by  nature,  and  habited  in  a  suit  of  velvet 
overlaid  with  Cyprus-work  of  gold,  blazing  with  jewels  about 
her  head,  and  her  feet  clad  in  silver-fretted  sandals,  Lennox 
rather  thought  that  it  was  some  triumphant  queen  he  was 
going  to  salute,  than  a  wife  who  had  so  lately  shared  cap- 
tivity with  an  outlawed  husband.  Murray  started  at  such 
unexpected  magnificence  in  his  aunt;  but  Wallace  scarcely 
observed  that  it  was  anything  unusual,  and  bowing  to  her, 
presented  the  Earl  of  Lennox.  She  smiled,  and  saying  a 
few  words  of  welcome  to  the  earl,  gave  her  hand  to  Wallace 
to  lead  her  back  into  the  chamber. 

Lord  Mar  had  risen  from  his  seat;  and  leaning  on  his 
sword,  for  his  warlike  arm  refused  any  other  staff,  he  stood 
up  on  their  entrance.  At  the  sight  of  Lord  Lennox  he 
uttered  an  exclamation  of  glad  surprise.  Lennox  embraced 
him.  "  I  too  am  come  to  enlist  under  the  banners  of  this 
young  Leonidas." 

"  God  armeth  che  patriot !  "  was  all  the  reply  that  Mar 
made,  as  the  big  tears  rolled  over  his  cheek,  and  he  shook 
Lennox  by  the  hand. 

"  I  have  four  hundred  stout  Lennox  men,"  continued  the 
earl,  "  who  by  to-morrow's  eve  shall  be  ready  to  follow  our 
leader  to  the  very  borders." 


THE    GREAT  SQUARE    TOWER.  21 3 

"  Not  so  soon,"  interrupted  the  countess  ;  "  our  deliverer 
needs  repose." 

■"  I  thank  your  benevolence,  Lady  Mar,"  returned  Wal- 
lace ;  "  but  the  issue  of  last  night,  and  the  sight  of  Lord 
Lennox  this  day,  with  the  promise  of  so  great  a  support, 
are  such  aliments  that  we  must  go  forward." 

"  Ay,  to  be  sure,"  joined  Kirkpatrick.  "  Dumbarton 
was  not  taken  during  a  sleep ;  and  if  we  stay  loitering  here, 
the  devil  that  holds  Stirling  castle  may  follow  the  scent  of 
De  Valence,  and  so  I  lose  my  revenge  !  " 

"  What  ?  "  said  the  countess,  "  and  are  my  lord  and  I  to 
be  left  again  to  our  enemies  ?  Sir  William  Wallace,  I 
should  have  thought  —  " 

"  Everything,  madam,"  rejoined  he,  "  that  is  demonstra- 
tive of  my  devotion  to  your  venerable  lord  !  But  with  a 
brave  garrison,  I  hope  you  will  consider  yourself  safe  here 
until  a  wider  range  of  security  be  won  to  enable  you  to 
retire  to  Braemar." 

As  the  apostrophe  addressed  to  Wallace  in  the  latter 
part  of  the  countess's  speech  had  been  said  to  himself  in 
rather  a  low  voice,  his  reply  was  made  in  a  similar  tone,  so 
that  Lord  Mar  did  not  hear  any  part  of  the  answer  but  the 
concluding  words.  "  What !  "  said  he,  "  is  my  ever  fearful 
Joanna  making  objections  to  keeping  garrison  here  ?  " 

"  I  confess,"  replied  Wallace,  "  that  an  armed  citadel  is 
not  the  most  pleasant  abode  for  a  lady ;  but  at  present,  ex- 
cepting perhaps  the  Church,  it  is  the  safest ;  and  I  would 
not  advise  your  lady  to  remove  hence  until  the  plain  be 
made  as  free  as  this  mountain." 

The  sewer  now  announced  the  board  in  the  hall ;  and 
the  countess,  leading  the  way,  reluctantly  gave  her  hand 
to  the  Earl  of  Lennox.  Lord  Mar  leaned  on  the  arm  of 
Wallace,  and  was  followed  by  Edwin  and  the  other 
chieftains. 


214  "^^^  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

THE   CITADEL. 

DURING  the  repast,  the  countess  fixed  her  insatiate 
eyes  on  the  manly  yet  youthful  countenance  of  the 
heroic  Wallace.  His  plumed  helmet  was  now  laid  aside  ; 
and  the  heavy  corselet,  unbuckled  from  his  breast,  disclosed 
the  symmetry  of  his  fine  form,  and  left  its  graceful  move- 
ments to  be  displayed  with  advantage  by  the  flexible  folds 
of  his  simple  tartan  vest.  It  was  a  warrior  she  looked  on, 
—  the  formidable  Wallace,  bathed  in  the  blood  of  Hesel- 
rigge,  and  breathing  vengeance  against  the  adherents  of 
the  tyrant  Edward  !  It  was  the  enemy,  then,  of  her  kins- 
men of  the  house  of  Cummin!  It  was  the  man  for  whom 
her  husband  had  embraced  so  many  dangers  !  It  was  the 
man  whom  she  had  denounced  to  one  of  those  kinsmen, 
and  whom  she  had  betrayed  to  the  hazard  of  an  ignomin- 
ious death  !  Where  now  was  the  fierce  rebel,  the  miner  of 
her  peace,  the  outlaw  whom  she  had  wished  in  his  grave .'' 

The  idea  was  distraction.  She  could  have  fallen  at  his 
feet,  and  bathing  them  with  her  tears  have  implored  his 
pity  and  forgiveness.  Even  as  the  wish  sprung  in  her 
mind,  she  asked  herself.  Did  he  know  all,  could  he  par- 
don such  a  weight  of  injuries  1  She  cast  her  eyes  with  a 
wild  expression  upon  his  face.  The  mildness  of  heaven 
was  there,  —  and  the  peace  too,  she  might  have  thought, 
had  not  his  eye  carried  a  chastened  sadness  in  its  look, 
which  told  that  something  dire  and  sorrowful  was  buried 
deep  within.  It  was  a  look  that  dissolved  the  soul  which 
gazed  on  it.  The  countess  felt  her  heart  throb  violently. 
At  that  moment  Wallace  addressed  a  few  words  to  her, 
but  she  knew  not  what  they  were  ;  her  soul  was  in  tumults, 
and  a  mist  passed  over  her  sight,  which  for  a  moment 
seemed  to  wrap  all  her  senses  in  a  trance. 

The  unconscious  object  of  these  emotions  bowed  to  her 
inarticulate  reply,  supposing  that  the  mingling  voices  of 
others  had  made  him  hear  hers  indistinctly. 


THE   CITADEL.  21  5 

Lady  Mar  found  her  situation  so  strange,  and  her  agita- 
tion so  inexplicable,  that  feeling  it  impossible  to  remain 
longer  without  giving  way  to  a  burst  of  tears,  she  rose  from 
her  seat,  and  forcing  a  smile,  courtesied  to  the  company  and 
left  the  room. 

When  she  had  gained  the  upper  apartments  she  threw 
herself  along  the  nearest  couch,  and  striking  her  breast, 
exclaimed,  "  What  is  this  that  is  within  me  ?  How  does 
my  soul  seem  to  pour  itself  out  to  this  man  !  Oh,  how  does 
it  extend  itself,  as  if  it  would  absorb  his,  even  at  my  eyes  ! 
Only  twelve  hours,  hardly  twelve  hours,  have  I  seen  this 
William  Wallace,  and  yet  my  very  being  is  now  lost  in 
his !  " 

As  she  spoke,  she  covered  her  face  with  her  handker- 
chief ;  but  no  tears  now  started  to  be  wiped  away.  The 
fire  in  her  veins  dried  their  source,  and  with  burning 
blushes  she  rose  from  her  seat.  "  Fatal,  fatal  hour  !  Why 
didst  thou  come  here,  too  lovely  Wallace,  to  rob  me  of  my 
peace  ?  Oh,  why  did  I  ever  look  on  that  face  ?  Or  rather, 
blessed  saints  !  "  cried  she,  clasping  her  hands  in  wild  pas- 
sion, "  why  did  I  ever  shackle  this  hand,  why  did  I  ever 
render  such  a  sacrifice  necessary  ?  Wallace  is  now  free,  — 
had  I  been  free  —  But  wretch,  wretch,  wretch  !  I  could 
tear  out  this  betrayed  heart !  I  could  trample  on  that  of 
the  perfidious  dotard  that  made  me  such  a  slave !  "  She 
gasped  for  breath,  and  again  seating  herself,  reclined  her 
beating  temples  against  the  couch. 

The  countess  was  now  silent ;  but  thoughts  not  less 
intense,  not  less  fraught  with  self-reproach  and  anguish, 
occupied  her  mind.  Should  this  god  of  her  idolatry  ever 
discover  that  it  was  her  information  which  had  sent  Earl 
de  Valence's  men  to  surround  him  in  the  mountains,  should 
he  ever  learn  that  at  Bothwell  she  had  betrayed  the  cause 
on  which  he  had  set  his  life,  she  felt  that  moment  would  be 
her  last.  For  now,  to  sate  her  eyes  with  gazing  on  him,  to 
hear  the  sound  of  his  voice,  to  receive  his  smiles,  seemed  to 
her  a  joy  she  could  only  surrender  with  her  existence. 
What,  then,  was  the  prospect  of  so  soon  losing  him,  even 
to  crown  himself  with  honor,  but  to  her  a  living  death  ! 

To  defer  this  departure  was  all  her  study,  all  her  hope ; 
and  fearful  that  his  restless  valor  might  urge  him  to  ac- 


2l6  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

company  Murray  in  his  intended  convoy  of  Helen  to  the 
Tweed,  she  determined  to  persuade  her  nephew  to  set  off 
without  the  knowledge  of  his  general.  She  did  not  allow 
that  it  was  the  youthful  beauty  and  more  lovely  mind  of 
her  daughter-in-law  which  she  feared  ;  even  to  herself  she 
cloaked  her  alarm  under  the  plausible  excuse  of  care  for 
the  chieftain's  safety.  Composed  by  this  arrangement,  her 
disturbed  features  became  smooth,  and  with  a  sedate  air 
she  received  her  lord  and  his  brave  friends  when  they 
entered  the  chamber. 

But  the  object  of  her  wishes  did  not  appear.  Wallace 
had  taken  Lord  Lennox  to  view  the  dispositions  of  the 
fortress.  Ill  satisfied  as  she  was  with  this  prolonged  ab- 
sence, she  did  not  fail  to  turn  it  to  advantage ;  and  while 
her  lord  and  his  friends  were  examining  a  draft  of  Scot- 
land, which  Wallace  had  sketched  since  she  left  the  ban- 
queting-room,  she  took  Lord  Andrew  aside  and  conversed 
with  him  on  the  subject  nearest  her  heart. 

"  It  certainly  belongs  to  me  alone,  as  her  kinsman  and 
friend,  to  protect  Helen  to  the  Tweed,"  returned  Murray  ; 
"  but,  my  good  lady,  I  cannot  comprehend  why  I  am  to 
lead  my  fair  cousin  such  a  pilgrimage.  She  is  not  afraid 
of  heroes.  You  are  safe  in  Dumbarton,  —  and  why  not 
bring  her  here  also  t  " 

"  Not  for  worlds  !  "  exclaimed  the  countess,  thrown  off 
her  guard.  Murray  looked  at  her  with  surprise.  It  re- 
called her  to  self-possession,  and  she  resumed.  "  So  lovely 
a  creature  in  this  castle  would  be  a  dangerous  magnet. 
You  must  have  known  that  it  was  the  hope  of  obtaining 
her  which  attracted  the  Lord  Soulis  and  Earl  de  Valence 
to  Bothwell.  The  whole  castle  rung  with  the  quarrel  of 
these  two  lords  upon  her  account  when  you  so  fortunately 
effected  her  escape.  Should  it  be  known  she  is  here,  the 
same  fierce  desire  of  obtaining  her  would  give  double  ex- 
citement to  De  Valence  to  recover  the  place,  —  and  the 
consequences  who  can  answer  for?  " 

By  this  argument  Murray  was  persuaded  to  relinquish 
the  idea  of  conveying  her  to  Dumbarton  ;  but  remembering 
what  Wallace  had  said  respecting  the  safety  of  a  religious 
sanctuan,',  he  advised  that  .she  should  be  left  at  St.  Fillan's 
till   the  cause  of    Scotland  was   more  firmly  established. 


THE   CITADEL. 


217 


"  Send  a  messenger  to  inform  her  of  the  rescue  of  Dumbar- 
ton, and  of  your  and  my  uncle's  health,"  continued  he, 
"  and  that  will  be  sufficient  to  make  her  happy." 

That  she  was  not  to  be  thrown  in  Wallace's  way  satisfied 
Lady  Mar;  and  indifferent  whether  Helen's  seclusion  were 
under  the  Eildon  tree  ^  or  the  Holyrood,  she  approved 
Murray's  decision,  and  dismissed  the  subject.  Relieved 
from  apprehension,  her  face  was  again  dressed  in  smiles ; 
and  with  a  bounding  heart  she  welcomed  the  re-entrance  of 
Wallace  with  the  Earl  of  Lennox. 

Absorbed  in  one  wish,  every  charm  she  possessed  was 
directed  to  the  same  point.  She  played  finely  on  the  lute, 
and  sung  with  all  the  grace  of  her  country'.  What  gentle 
heart  was  not  to  be  affected  by  music?  She  determined  it 
should  be  one  of  the  spells  by  which  she  meant  to  attract 
Wallace,  and  to  bind  him  to  the  castle.  She  took  up  one 
of  the  lutes  which,  with  other  musical  instruments,  deco- 
rated the  apartments  of  the  luxurious  De  Valence,  and 
touching  it  with  exquisite  delicacy,  breathed  the  most 
pathetic  air  her  memory  could  dictate :  — 

If  on  the  heath  she  moved,  her  breast  was  whiter  than  the  down  of  Cana,  — 

If  on  the  sea-beat  shore,  than  the  foam  of  the  rolling  ocean. 

Her  eyes  were  two  stars  of  light.     Her  face  was  heaven's  bow  in  showers. 

Her  dark  hair  flowed  around  it,  like  the  streaming  clouds. 

Thou  wert  the  dweller  of  souls,  white-handed  Strinadona  ! 

Wallace  rose  from  his  chair,  which  she  had  placed  near 
her.  She  had  designed  that  these  tender  words  of  the 
bard  of  Morven  should  suggest  to  her  hearer  the  observa- 
tion of  her  own  resembling  beauties ;  but  he  saw  in  them 
only  the  lovely  dweller  of  his  own  soul,  and  walking  towards 
a  window,  stood  there,  with  his  eye  fixed  on  the  descending 
sun :  "  So  has  set  all  my  joy  ;  so  is  life  to  me,  a  world  with- 
out a  sun,  —  cold,  cold,  and  charmless  !  " 

The  countess  vainly  believed  that  some  sensibility  advan- 
tageous to  her  new  passion  had  caused  the  agitation  with 

1  The  Eildon  tree  is  famous  in  tradition.  It  stood  near  Learmont 
tower  on  the  Leeder,  the  seat  of  Thomas  the  sage  or  prophet  of  Ercil- 
down.  It  was  reported  that  here  he  met  the  fairy  who  endowed  him  with 
many  supernatural  gifts,  and  that  from  this  spot  he  generally  uttered  his 
predictions.  The  tree  no  longer  exists,  but  the  place  where  it  stood  is 
marked  by  a  large  stone  called  the  Eildon-tree  stone. 


2l8  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

which  she  saw  him  depart  from  her  side  ;  and  intoxicated 
with  the  idea,  she  ran  through  many  a  melodious  descant, 
till,  touching  on  the  first  strains  of  "  Thusa  ha  measg  na 
reultan  mor,"  she  saw  Wallace  start  from  his  contemplative 
position,  and  with  a  pale  countenance  leave  the  room. 
There  was  something  in  his  countenance  which  excited  the 
alarm  of  the  Earl  of  Lennox,  who  had  also  been  listening 
to  the  songs.  He  arose  instantly,  and  overtaking  the  chief 
at  the  threshold,  inquired  what  was  the  matter. 

"  Nothing,"  answered  Wallace,  forcing  a  smile  in  which 
the  agony  of  his  mind  was  too  truly  imprinted ;  "  but  music 
displeases  me."  With  this  reply  he  disappeared.  The 
excuse  seemed  strange,  but  it  was  true ;  for  her  whose  notes 
were  to  him  sweeter  than  the  thrush,  whose  angel  strains 
used  to  greet  his  morning  and  evening  hours,  was  silent  in  the 
grave !  He  should  no  more  see  her  white  hand  upon  the 
lute !  He  should  no  more  behold  that  bosom,  brighter 
than  foam  upon  the  wave,  heave  in  tender  transport  at  his 
applause  !  What,  then,  was  music  to  him  ?  A  soulless 
sound,  or  a  direful  knell  to  recall  the  remembrance  of  all 
he  had  lost. 

Such  were  his  thoughts  when  the  words  of  "  Thusa  ha 
measg"  rung  from  Lady  Mar's  voice.  Those  were  the 
strains  which  Halbert  used  to  breathe  from  his  harp  to  call 
his  Marion  to  her  nightly  slumbers;  those  were  the  strains 
with  which  that  faithful  servant  had  announced  that  she 
slept  to  wake  no  more  ! 

What  wonder,  then,  that  Wallace  fled  from  the  apart- 
ment, and  buried  himself  and  his  aroused  grief  in  the 
solitudes  of  the  beacon-hill ! 

While  looking  over  the  shoulder  of  his  uncle  on  the  sta- 
tion which  Stirling  held  amid  the  Ochil  hills,  Edwin  had  at 
intervals  cast  a  sidelong  glance  upon  the  changing  com- 
plexion of  his  commander ;  and  no  sooner  did  he  see  him 
hurry  from  the  room,  than  fearful  of  some  disaster  having 
befallen  the  garrison,  which  Wallace  did  not  choose 
immediately  to  mention,  he  also  left  the  apartment. 

After  seeking  the  object  of  his  anxiety  for  a  long  time 
without  avail,  he  was  returning  on  his  steps,  when,  at- 
tracted by  the  splendors  of  the  moon  which  silvered  the 
beacon-hill,  he  ascended,  —  once,   at  least,  to  tread   that 


THE   CITADEL.  219 

acclivity  in  light  which  he  had  so  miraculously  passed 
in  darkness.  Scarce  a  zephyr  fanned  the  sleeping  air. 
He  moved  on  with  a  flying  step,  till  a  deep  sigh  arrested 
him.  He  stopped  and  listened ;  it  was  repeated  again  and 
again.  He  approached  the  spot,  and  saw  a  human  figure  re- 
clining. The  head  of  the  apparent  mourner  was  unbonneted, 
and  the  brightness  of  the  moon  shone  on  his  polished  fore- 
head. Edwin  thought  the  sound  of  those  sighs  was  the 
same  he  had  often  heard  from  the  breast  of  Wallace,  and 
no  longer  doubted  having  found  the  object  of  his  search. 
He  walked  forward.  Again  the  figure  sighed,  but  with  a 
depth  so  full  of  piercing  woe  that  Edwin  hesitated.  A 
cloud  passed  over  the  moon,  and  sailing  off  again  displayed 
to  the  anxious  boy  that  he  had  drawn  very  near  his  friend. 

"  Who  goes  there  ?  "  exclaimed  Wallace,  starting  on  his 
feet. 

"  Your  Edwin,"  returned  the  youth.  "  I  feared  some- 
thing wrong  had  happened,  when  I  saw  you  look  so  sad 
and  leave  the  room  abruptly."  Wallace  pressed  his  hand 
in  silence.  "  Then  some  evil  has  befallen  you  ?  "  inquired 
Edwin,  in  an  agitated  voice.     "  You  do  not  speak  !  " 

Wallace  seated  himself  on  a  stone,  and  leaned  his  head 
upon  the  hilt  of  his  sword.  "  No  new  evil  has  befallen  me, 
Edwin.  But  there  is  such  a  thing  as  remembrance,  that 
stabs  deeper  than  the  dagger's  point." 

"  What  remembrance  can  wound  you,  my  general  ?  The 
abbot  of  St.  Columba  has  often  told  me  that  memory  is  a 
balm  to  all  ills  with  the  good,  —  and  have  not  you  been 
good  to  all  ?  The  benefactor,  the  preserver  of  thousands  ! 
Surely  if  man  can  be  happy,  it  must  be  Sir  William 
Wallace  !  " 

"  And  so  I  am,  my  Edwin,  when  I  contemplate  the  end. 
But  in  the  interval,  with  all  thy  sweet  philosophy,  is  it  not 
written  here  '  that  man  was  made  to  mourn  '  ?  "  He  pressed 
his  hand  to  his  breast ;  and  after  a  short  pause  resumed  : 
"  Doubly  I  mourn,  doubly  am  I  bereaved ;  for  had  it  not 
been  for  enemies  more  fell  than  those  which  beguiled  Adam 
of  Paradise,  I  might  have  been  a  father;  I  might  have  lived 
to  glory  in  a  son  like  thee  ;  I  might  have  seen  my  wedded 
angel  clasp  such  a  blessing  to  her  bosom.  But  now,  both 
are  cold  in  clay !     These  are  the  recollections  which  some- 


220  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

times  draw  tears  down  thy  general's  cheeks.  And  do  not 
believe,  brother  of  my  soul,"  said  he,  pressing  the  now 
weeping  Edwin  to  his  breast,  "  that  they  disgrace  his  man- 
hood. The  Son  of  God  wept  over  the  tomb  of  his  friend ; 
and  shall  I  deny  a  few  tears  dropped  in  stealth  over  the 
grave  of  my  wife  and  child .''  " 

Edwin  sobbed  aloud :  "  No  son  could  love  you  dearer 
than  I  do !  Ah,  let  my  duty,  my  affection,  teach  you  to 
forget  you  have  lost  a  child.  I  will  replace  all  to  you  but 
your  Marion;  and  her  the  pitying  Son  of  Mary  will  restore 
to  you  in  the  kingdom  of  Heaven." 

Wallace  looked  steadfastly  at  the  young  preacher.  "  Out 
of  the  mouths  of  babes  we  shall  hear  wisdom !  Thine, 
dear  Edwin,  I  will  lay  to  heart.  Thou  shalt  comfort  me 
when  my  hermit-soul  shuts  out  all  the  world  besides." 

"  Then  I  am  indeed  your  brother ! "  cried  the  happy 
youth.  "  Admit  me  but  to  your  heart,  —  and  no  fraternal 
nor  filial  tie  shall  be  more  strongly  linked  than  mine." 

"  What  tender  affections  I  can  spare  from  those  resplen- 
dent regions,"  answered  Wallace,  pointing  to  the  skies, 
"  are  thine.  The  fervors  of  my  once  ardent  soul  are  Scot- 
land's, or  I  die.  But  thou  art  too  young,  my  brother," 
added  he,  interrupting  himself,  "  to  understand  all  the 
feelings,  all  the  seeming  contradictions  of  my  contending 
heart." 

"  Not  so,"  answered  Edwin,  with  a  modest  blush. 
"What  was  Lady  Marion's,  you  now  devote  to  Scotland. 
The  blaze  of  those  affections  which  were  hers  would  con- 
sume your  being  did  you  not  pour  it  forth  on  your  country. 
Were  you  not  a  patriot,  grief  would  prey  upon  your  life." 

"  You  have  read  me,  Edwin,"  replied  Wallace.  "  And 
that  you  may  never  love  to  idolatry,  learn  this  also. 
Though  Scotland  lay  in  ruin,  I  was  happy.  I  felt  not 
captivity  in  Marion's  arms;  even  oppression  was  forgotten 
when  she  made  the  sufferers'  tears  cease  to  flow.  She 
absorbed  my  wishes,  thoughts,  and  life ;  and  she  was 
wrested  from  me  that  I  might  feel  myself  a  slave,  that 
the  iron  might  enter  into  my  soul  with  which  I  was  to  pull 
down  tyranny  and  free  my  country.  Mark  my  sacrifice, 
young  man  !  "  cried  Wallace,  starting  on  his  feet ;  "  it  even 
now  smokes,  and  the  flames  are  here  inextinguishable ! " 


THE   CITADEL.  221 

He  struck  his  hand  upon  his  breast.  "  Never  love  as  I 
have  loved,  and  you  may  be  a  patriot  without  tasting  of  my 
bitter  cup ! " 

Edwin  trembled  :  his  tears  were  checked.  "  I  can  love 
none  better  than  I  do  you,  my  general,  —  and  is  there  any 
crime  in  that  ?  " 

Wallace  in  a  moment  recovered  from  the  transient  wild- 
ness  which  had  possessed  him.  "  None,  my  Edwin,"  replied 
he ;  "  the  affections  are  never  criminal  but  when  by  their 
excess  they  blind  us  to  superior  duties.  The  offence  of 
mine  is  judged,  and  I  bow  to  the  penalty.  When  the  expi- 
ation is  made,  then  may  my  ashes  sleep  in  rescued  Scot- 
land !  And  God  will  grant  the  seraph  spirits  of  my  wife 
and  infant  to  waft  me  in  their  arms  to  paradise."  Edwin 
wept  afresh.  "  Cease,  dear  boy !  "  said  Wallace ;  "  these 
presages  are  very  comforting ;  they  whisper  that  the  path 
of  glory  leads  thy  brother  to  his  home."  As  he  spoke,  he 
took  the  arm  of  the  silent  Edwin,  whose  sensibility  locked 
up  the  powers  of  speech,  and  putting  it  through  his  they 
descended  the  hill  together. 

On  the  platform  before  the  great  tower  they  were  met  by 
Murray.  "  I  come  to  seek  you,"  cried  he.  "  We  have  had 
woe  on  woe  in  the  citadel,  since  you  left  it." 

"Nothing  very  calamitous,"  returned  Wallace,  "if  we 
may  guess  by  the  merry  visage  of  our  ambassador." 

"  Only  a  little  whirlwind  of  my  aunt's,  in  which  we  have 
had  airs  and  showers  enough  to  wet  us  through  and  blow 
us  dry  again." 

The  conduct  of  the  lady  was  even  more  extravagant  than 
her  nephew  chose  to  describe.  After  Wallace's  departure 
the  chiefs  entered  into  a  conversation  respecting  his  future 
plans ;  and  Lennox  mentioned  that  when  the  Lennox  men 
arrived,  for  whom  he  had  that  evening  dispatched  Ker,  it 
was  Wallace's  intention  to  march  immediately  for  Stirling, 
whither,  he  supposed,  Aymer  de  Valence  had  fled.  "  I  shall 
be  left  here,"  continued  the  earl,  "to  relieve  you.  Lord  Mar, 
from  the  severer  duties  attendant  on  being  governor  of  this 
place." 

No  sooner  did  these  words  reach  the  ears  of  the  countess 
than  she  was  struck  with  despair ;  and  hastening  towards 
her  husband,  she  exclaimed,  "  You  will  not  suffer  this  ?  " 


222  l^HE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

"  No,"  returned  the  earl,  mistaking  her  meaning ;  "  not 
being  able  to  perform  the  duties  attendant  on  the  station 
with  which  Wallace  would  honor  me,  I  shall  relinquish 
them  altogether  to  Lord  Lennox,  and  be  happy  to  find 
myself  under  his  protection." 

"  Ah,  where  is  there  protection  without  Sir  William 
Wallace  ?  "  cried  she.  "  If  he  go,  the  enemy  will  return. 
Who  then  will  repel  them  from  these  walls.''  Who  will 
defend  myself  and  your  only  son  from  falling  again  into 
the  hands  of  our  doubly  incensed  foes  ?  " 

Mar  observed  Lord  Lennox  color  at  this  imputation  on 
his  bravery ;  and  shocked  at  the  affront  which  his  unreflect- 
ing wife  had  given  to  so  gallant  a  chief,  he  hastily  replied, 
"  Though  I  cannot  be  strong  in  your  defence,  yet  the  Earl 
of  Lennox  is  an  able  representative  of  our  commander." 

"  I  will  die,  madam,"  interrupted  Lennox,  "  before  any- 
thing hostile  approaches  you  or  your  child." 

She  attended  slightly  to  this  assurance,  and  again  ad- 
dressed her  lord  with  fresh  arguments  for  the  detention  of 
Wallace.  Sir  Roger  Kirkpatrick  at  last  abruptly  said, 
"  Be  assured,  madam,  our  Samson  was  not  brought  into 
the  world  to  keep  guard  over  ladies ;  and  I  hope  he  will  be 
wiser  than  to  allow  himself  to  be  tied  to  the  girdle  of  any 
woman  living." 

The  brave  old  earl  was  offended  with  this  roughness ; 
but  ere  he  could  so  express  himself,  his  lady  darted  on 
Kirkpatrick  a  severe  retort,  and  then  turning  to  her  hus- 
band, with  two  or  three  hysterical  sobs,  exclaimed,  "It  is 
well  seen  what  will  be  my  fate  when  Wallace  is  gone ! 
Would  he  have  stood  by  and  beheld  me  thus  insulted  ?  " 

Distressed  with  shame  at  her  conduct,  and  anxious  to 
remove  her  fears.  Lord  Mar  softly  whispered  her,  and 
threw  his  arm  about  her  waist.  She  thrust  him  from  her  : 
"  You  care  not  what  may  become  of  me,  and  my  heart  dis- 
dains your  blandishments." 

Lennox  rose  in  silence,  and  walked  to  the  other  end  of 
the  chamber.  Sir  Roger  Kirkpatrick  followed  him,  mutter- 
ing pretty  audibly  his  thanks  to  Saint  Andrew  that  he  had 
never  been  yoked  with  a  wife.  Scrymgeour  and  Murray 
tried  to  allay  the  storm  in  her  bosom  by  circumstantially 
describing  to  her  how  the  fortress  would  be  as  safe  under 


THE    CITADEL.  223 

the  care  o£  Lennox  as  of  Wallace.  But  they  discoursed  in 
vain  ;  she  was  obstinate,  and  at  last  left  the  room  in  a 
passion  of  tears. 

On  the  return  of  Wallace,  Lord  Lennox  advanced  to 
meet  him.  "  Wliat  shall  we  do,  general  ?  "  said  he.  "  With- 
out you  have  the  power  of  Hercules,  and  can  be  in  two 
places  at  once,  I  fear  we  must  either  leave  the  rest  of 
Scotland  to  fight  for  itself,  or  never  restore  peace  to  this 
castle." 

Wallace  smiled ;  but  before  he  could  answer,  Lady  Mar, 
having  heard  his  voice  ascending  the  stairs,  suddenly 
entered  the  room.  She  held  her  infant  in  her  arms.  Her 
air  was  composed,  but  her  eyes  yet  shone  in  tears.  At 
this  sight.  Lord  Lennox,  taking  Murray  by  the  arm,  with- 
drew with  him  out  of  the  apartment. 

The  countess  approached  Wallace.  "  You  are  come,  my 
deliverer,  to  speak  comfort  to  the  mother  of  this  poor  babe. 
My  cruel  lord  here  and  the  earl  of  Lennox  say  you  mean 
to  abandon  us  in  this  castle  !  " 

"It  cannot  be  abandoned,"  returned  the  chief,  "while 
they  are  in  it.  But  if  so  warlike  a  scene  alarms  you,  would 
not  a  religious  sanctuary  —  " 

"  Not  for  worlds!"  cried  she,  interrupting  him;  "what 
altar  is  held  sacred  by  the  enemies  of  our  country  ?  Oh, 
wonder  not,"  added  she,  putting  her  face  to  that  of  her 
child,  "  that  I  should  wish  this  innocent  babe  never  to  be 
from  under  the  wing  of  such  a  protector." 

"  But  that  is  impossible,  Joanna,"  rejoined  the  earl. 
"  Sir  William  Wallace  has  duties  superior  to  that  of  keep- 
ing guard  over  any  private  family.  His  presence  is  wanted 
in  the  field,  and  we  should  be  traitors  to  the  cause  did  we 
detain  him." 

"  Unfeeling  Mar !  "  cried  his  wife,  weeping  bitterly,  "  thus 
to  echo  the  words  of  the  barbarian  Kirkpatrick,  thus  to 
condemn  us  to  die  !  You  will  see  another  tragedy,  —  your 
own  wife  and  child  seized  by  the  returning  Southrons,  and 
laid  bleeding  at  your  feet !  " 

Wallace  walked  from  her  much  agitated. 

"  Rather,  inhuman,  Joanna ! "  whispered  Lord  Mar  to 
her,  in  an  angry  voice,  "to  make  such  a  reference  in 
the  presence  of  our  protector !      I  cannot  stay  to  listen 


224  "^^^  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

to  a  pertinacity  that  is  as  insulting  to  the  rest  of  our  brave 
leaders  as  it  is  oppressive  to  Sir  William  Wallace.  Edwin, 
you  will  come  for  me  when  your  aunt  consents  to  be  guided 
by  right  reason."  As  he  spoke,  he  entered  the  passage 
that  led  to  his  own  apartment. 

Lady  Mar  sat  a  few  minutes  silent.  She  was  not  to  be 
warned  from  her  determination  by  the  displeasure  of  a 
husTjand  whom  she  now  regarded  with  the  impatience  of  a 
bond-woman  towards  her  task-master ;  and  only  solicitous 
to  compass  the  detention  of  Sir  WiUiam  Wallace,  she 
resolved,  if  he  would  not  remain  at  the  castle,  to  persuade 
him  to  conduct  her  to  her  husband's  territories  in  the  Isle 
of  Bute.  The  journey  she  would  contrive  should  occupy 
more  than  one  day ;  and  for  holding  him  longer,  she  would 
trust  to  chance  and  her  own  inventions. 

With  these  resolutions  Lady  Mar  looked  up.  Edwin 
was  speaking  to  Wallace.  "  What  does  he  tell  you  ?  "  said 
she,  —  "  that  my  lord  has  left  me  in  displeasure .''  Alas,  he 
comprehends  not  a  mother's  anxiety  for  her  sole  remaining 
child !  One  of  my  sweet  twins,  my  dear  daughter,  died  on 
my  being  brought  a  prisoner  to  this  horrid  fortress ;  and  to 
lose  this  also  would  be  more  than  I  could  bear.  Look  at 
this  babe,"  cried  she,  rising  and  holding  it  up  to  him ;  "  let 
it  plead  to  you  for  its  life  !  Guard  it,  noble  Wallace,  what- 
ever may  become  of  me  !  " 

The  appeal  of  a  mother  made  instant  way  to  Sir  Wil- 
liam's heart ;  even  her  weaknesses,  did  they  point  to  a  too 
tender  anxiety  respecting  her  offspring,  were  sacred  with 
him.  "  What  would  you  have  me  do,  my  dear  madam  ? 
If  you  fear  to  remain  here,  tell  me  where  you  think  you 
would  be  safer,  and  I  will  be  your  conductor." 

She  paused,  to  repress  the  triumph  with  which  this  pro- 
posal filled  her,  and  then,  with  downcast  eyes,  replied : 
"  In  the  sea-girt  Bute  stands  Rothsay,  a  rude  but  strong 
castle  of  my  lord's ;  it  possesses  nothing  to  attract  the 
notice  of  the  enemy,  and  there  I  might  remain  in  perfect 
safety.  Lord  Mar  may  keep  his  station  here,  until  a  gene- 
ral victory  sends  you,  noble  Wallace,  to  restore  my  child 
to  his  father." 

Wallace  bowed  his  assent  to  her  proposal ;  and  Edwin, 
remembering  the  earl's  injunction,  inquired  if  he  might  in- 


RENFRE  WSHIRE.  2  2  5 

form  him  of  what  was  decided.  As  he  left  the  room,  Lady- 
Mar  rose,  and  suddenly  putting  her  son  into  the  arms  of 
Wallace,  "  Let  his  sweet  caresses  thank  you."  Wallace 
trembled  as  she  pressed  its  little  mouth  to  his ;  and  mis- 
translating this  emotion,  she  dropped  her  face  upon  the  in- 
fant's ;  and  in  affecting  to  kiss  him,  rested  her  head  upon 
the  bosom  of  the  chief.  There  was  something  in  this  ac- 
tion more  than  maternal ;  it  surprised  and  disconcerted 
Wallace.  "  Madam,"  said  he,  drawing  back,  and  relin- 
quishing the  child,  "  I  do  not  require  any  thanks  for  serv- 
ing the  wife  and  son  of  Lord  Mar." 

At  that  moment  the  earl  entered.  Lady  Mar  flattered 
herself  that  the  repelling  action  of  Wallace,  and  his  cold 
answer,  had  arisen  from  the  expectation  of  his  entrance ; 
and  yet  blushing  with  something  like  disappointment,  in  a 
few  agitated  words  she  informed  her  husband  that  Bute 
was  to  be  her  future  sanctuary. 

Lord  Mar  approved  it,  but  declared  his  determination  to 
accompany  her.  "In  my  state  I  can  be  of  little  use  here," 
said  he.  "  You  will  require  protection  even  in  that  seclu- 
sion ;  and  therefore,  leaving  Lord  Lennox  sole  governor  of 
Dumbarton,  I  shall  unquestionably  attend  you  to  Rothsay." 

This  arrangement  would  break  in  upon  the  lonely  con- 
versations she  meditated  to  have  with  Wallace,  and  there- 
fore the  countess  objected  to  the  proposal.  But  none  of 
her  arguments  being  admitted  by  her  husband,  and  as 
Wallace  did  not  support  them  by  a  word,  she  was  obliged 
to  make  a  merit  of  necessity,  and  consent  to  Lord  Mar's 
being  the  guardian  of  her  new  abode. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

RENFREWSHIRE. 

TOWARDS  evening  the  next  day  Ker  not  only  returned 
with  the    Earl  of  Lennox's  men,  but  brought  with 
him   Sir   Eustace  Maxwell  of    Carlaveroch.     That  brave 
knight  happened  to  be  in  the  neighborhood  the  night  that 
VOL.  I.  — 15 


226  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

De  Valence  fled  before  the  arms  of  Wallace  across  the 
Clyde,  and  he  no  sooner  saw  the  Scottish  colors  on  the 
walls  of  Dumbarton,  than  finding  out  who  was  their  planter, 
his  soul  took  fire ;  and  stung  with  a  generous  ambition  of 
equalling  in  glory  his  equal  in  years,  he  determined  to  as- 
sist while  he  emulated  the  victor. 

To  this  end  he  went  into  the  town  of  Dumbarton  and 
along  the  shore,  striving  to  enlighten  the  understandings 
of  the  stupidly  satisfied,  and  to  excite  the  discontented  to 
revolt.  With  most  he  failed.  Some  took  upon  them  to 
lecture  him  on  fishing  in  troubled  waters,  and  warned  him, 
if  he  would  keep  his  head  on  his  shoulders,  to  wear  his 
yoke  in  peace.  Others  thought  the  project  too  arduous  for 
men  of  small  means ;  they  wished  well  to  the  arms  of  Sir 
William  Wallace,  and  should  he  continue  successful  would 
watch  the  moment  to  aid  him  with  all  their  little  power. 
Those  who  had  much  property  feared  to  risk  its  loss  by 
embracing  a  doubtful  struggle.  Some  were  too  great  cow- 
ards to  fight  for  the  rights  they  would  gladly  regain  by  the 
exertions  of  others ;  and  others  again,  who  had  families, 
shrunk  from  taking  part  in  a  cause  which,  should  it  fail, 
would  not  only  put  their  lives  in  danger  but  expose  their 
offspring  to  the  revenge  of  a  resentful  enemy.  This  was 
the  best  apology  of  any  that  had  been  offered ;  natural 
affection  was  the  pleader,  and  though  blinded  to  its  true  in- 
terest, the  weakness  had  an  amiable  source,  and  so  was 
pardoned.  But  the  other  pleas  were  so  basely  selfish,  so 
undeserving  of  anything  but  scorn,  that  Sir  Eustace  Max- 
well could  not  forbear  expressing  it.  "  When  Sir  William 
Wallace  is  entering  full  sail,  you  will  send  your  birlings  to 
tow  him  in  ;  but  if  a  plank  could  save  him  now,  you  would 
not  throw  it  to  him !  I  understand  you,  sirs,  and  shall 
trouble  your  patriotism  no  more." 

In  short,  none  but  about  a  hundred  poor  fellows  whom 
outrages  had  rendered  desperate,  and  a  few  brave  spirits 
who  would  put  all  to  the  hazard  for  so  good  a  cause,  could 
be  prevailed  on  to  hold  themselves  in  readiness  to  obey  Sir 
Eustace  when  he  should  see  the  moment  to  conduct  them 
to  Sir  William  Wallace.  He  was  trying  his  eloquence 
amongst  the  clan  of  Lennox,  when  Ker  arriving  stamped  his 
persuasions   with  truth,  and   above   five  hundred  men  ar- 


RENFRE  WSHIRE.  22/ 

rang-ed  themselves  under  their  lord's  standard.  Maxwell 
gladly  explained  himself  to  Wallace's  lieutenant ;  and  sum- 
moning his  little  reserve,  they  marched  with  flying  pennons 
through  the  town  of  Dumbarton.  At  sight  of  so  much 
larger  a  power  than  they  expected  would  venture  to  appear 
in  arms,  and  sanctioned  by  the  example  of  the  Earl  of  Len- 
nox, whose  name  held  a  great  influence  in  those  parts,  sev- 
eral who  before  had  held  back  from  doubting  their  own 
judgment  now  came  forward, — and  nearly  eight  hundred 
well  appointed  men  marched  into  the  fortress. 

So  large  a  reinforcement  was  gratefully  received  by  Wal- 
lace ;  and  he  welcomed  Maxwell  with  a  cordiality  which 
inspired  that  young  knight  with  an  affection  equal  to  his 
zeal. 

A  council  being  held  respecting  the  disposal  of  the  new 
troops,  it  was  decided  that  the  five  hundred  Lennox  men 
should  remain  with  their  earl  in  garrison ;  and  the  tliree 
hundred  from  Dumbarton,  under  the  command  of  Maxwell, 
should  follow  Wallace  in  the  prosecution  of  his  conquests. 

These  preliminaries  being  arranged,  the  remainder  of  the 
day  was  dedicated  to  more  mature  deliberations, — to  the 
unfolding  of  the  plan  of  warfare  which  Wallace  had  con- 
ceived. As  he  first  sketched  the  general  outline  of  his  de- 
sign, and  then  proceeded  to  the  particulars  of  each  military 
movement,  he  displayed  such  comprehensiveness  of  mind, 
such  depth  of  penetration,  clearness  of  apprehension,  fa- 
cility in  expedients,  promptitude  in  perceiving  and  fixing 
on  the  most  favorable  points  of  attack,  explaining  their 
bearings  upon  the  power  of  the  enemy,  and  where  the  pos- 
session of  such  a  castle  would  compel  the  neighboring  ones 
to  surrender,  and  where  the  occupying  of  the  flat  country 
with  a  strong  wall  of  troops  would  be  a  more  efficient  bul- 
wark than  a  thousand  towers, —  that  MaxAvell  gazed  on  him 
with  admiration,  and  Lennox  with  wonder. 

Mar  had  seen  the  power  of  his  arms,  Murray  had  often 
drunk  the  experience  of  a  veteran  from  his  genius ;  hence 
they  were  not  surprised  at  hearing  what  filled  strangers  with 
amazement. 

Lennox  gazed  on  his.  youthful  countenance,  doubting 
whether  he  really  were  listening  to  military  plans  great  as 
general  ever  formed,  or  were  visited  in  vision  by  a  hero 


228  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

who  offered  to  his  sleeping  fancy  designs  far  vaster  than 
his  waking  faculties  could  have  conceived.  He  had  thought 
that  the  young  Wallace  might  have  won  Dumbarton  by  a 
bold  stroke,  and  that  when  his  invincible  courage  should 
be  steered  by  graver  heads,  every  success  might  be  ex- 
pected from  his  arms.  But  now  that  he  heard  him  inform- 
ing veterans  on  the  art  of  war,  and  saw  that  when  turned 
to  any  cause  of  policy  "  the  Gordian  knot  of  it  he  did  un- 
loose, familiar  as  his  garter,"  he  marvelled,  and  said  with- 
in himself,  "  Surely,  this  man  is  born  to  be  a  sovereign !  " 

Maxwell,  though  equally  astonished,  was  not  so  rapt. 
"  You  have  made  arms  the  study  of  your  life  ?  "  inquired  he. 

"It  was  the  study  of  my  earliest  days  !  "  returned  Wal- 
lace. "  But  when  Scotland  lost  her  freedom,  as  the  sword 
was  not  drawn  in  her  defence,  I  looked  not  where  it  lay. 
I  then  studied  the  arts  of  peace.  That  is  over,  and  now 
the  passion  of  my  soul  revives.  When  the  mind  is  bent  on 
one  object  only,  all  becomes  clear  that  leads  to  it ;  zeal, 
in  these  cases,  is  almost  genius." 

Soon  after  these  observations,  it  was  decided  that  Wal- 
lace should  attend  Lord  Mar  and  his  family  on  the  morrow 
to  the  Isle  of  Bute. 

When  the  dawn  broke.  Sir  William  arose  from  his 
heather  bed  in  the  great  tower,  and  calling  forth  twenty 
of  the  Bothwell  men  to  be  the  guard  of  Lord  Mar,  he  told 
Ireland  he  should  expect  to  have  a  cheering  account  of 
the  wounded  when  he  returned. 

"And  to  assure  the  poor  fellows,"  rejoined  the  honest 
soldier,  "that  something  of  yourself  still  keeps  watch  over 
their  slumbers,  leave  me  the  sturdy  sword  with  which  you 
won  Dumbarton.  It  shall  be  hung  up  in  their  sight,i  and 
a  good  soldier's  wounds  will  heal  by  looking  on  it." 

Wallace  smiled.  "  Were  it  the  holy  King  David's  we 
might  expect  such  a  miracle.  But  you  are  welcome  to 
it;  and  there  let  it  remain  till  I  take  it  hence.  Mean- 
while lend  me  yours,  Stephen,  for  a  truer  never  fought  for 
Scotland." 

A  glow  of  conscious  valor  flushed  the  cheek  of  the  vet- 

'  This  tower,  within  the  fortress  of  Dumbarton,  is  still  called  Wal- 
lace's tower  ;  and  a  sword  is  shown  there  as  the  one  that  belonged  to 
Wallace. 


RENFRE  WSHIRE.  229 

eran.  "  There,  my  dear  lord,"  said  he,  presenting  it ;  "  it 
will  not  dishonor  your  hand,  for  it  cut  down  many  a  proud 
Norwegian  on  the  field  of  Largs." 

Wallace  took  the  sword,  and  turned  to  meet  Murray  with 
Edwin  in  the  portal.  When  they  reached  the  citadel,  Len- 
nox and  all  the  officers  in  the  garrison  were  assembled  to 
bid  their  chief  a  short  adieu.  W^allace  spoke  to  each 
separately ;  and  then  approaching  the  countess,  led  her 
down  the  rock  to  the  horses  which  were  to  convey  them  to 
the  frith  of  Clyde.  Lord  Mar,  between  Murray  and  Edwin, 
followed ;  and  the  servants  and  guard  completed  the  suite. 

Being  well  mounted,  they  pleasantly  pursued  their  way, 
avoiding  all  inhabited  places,  and  resting  in  the  deepest 
recesses  of  the  hills.  Lord  Mar  had  proposed  travelling 
all  night ;  but  at  the  close  of  the  evening  his  countess  com- 
plained of  fatigue,  and  declared  she  could  not  advance 
farther  than  the  eastern  bank  of  the  river  Cart.  No  shelter 
appeared  in  sight,  excepting  a  thick  and  extensive  wood  of 
hazels ;  but  the  lady  being  obstinate,  and  the  air  mild,  Lord 
Mar  at  last  became  reconciled  to  his  wife  and  son  passing 
the  night  with  no  other  canopy  than  the  trees.  Wallace 
ordered  cloaks  to  be  spread  on  the  ground  for  the  countess 
and  her  women,  and  seeing  them  laid  to  rest,  planted  his 
men  to  keep  guard  around  the  circle. 

The  moon  had  sunk  in  the  west  before  the  whole  of  his 
little  camp  were  asleep ;  but  when  all  were  composed, 
Wallace  wandered  forth  by  the  dim  light  of  the  stars  to 
view  the  surrounding  country,  —  a  country  he  had  so  often 
traversed  in  his  boyish  days.  A  little  onward,  in  green 
Renfrewshire,  lay  the  lands  of  his  father  ;  but  that  Ellerslie 
of  his  ancestors,  like  his  own  Ellerslie  of  Clydesdale,  his 
countrj-'s  enemies  had  levelled  with  the  ground.  He 
turned  in  anguish  of  heart  towards  the  south;  there  less 
racking  remembrances  hovered  over  the  distant  hills. 

Leaning  on  the  shattered  stump  of  an  old  tree,  he  fixed 
his  eyes  on  the  far  stretching  plain  which  alone  seemed  to 
divide  him  from  the  venerable  Sir  Ronald  Crawford  and 
his  youthful  haunts  at  Ayr.  Full  of  thoughts  of  her  who 
used  to  share  those  happy  scenes,  he  heard  a  sigh  behind 
him.  He  turned  round,  and  beheld  a  female  figure  dis- 
appear amongst  the  trees.     He  stood  motionless.     Again  it 


230  THE    SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

met  his  view.  It  seemed  to  approach.  A  strange  emotion 
stirred  his  heart.  When  he  last  passed  these  borders  he 
was  bringing  his  bride  from  Ayr !  What,  then,  was  this 
ethereal  visitant  ?  The  silver  light  of  the  stars  was  not 
brighter  than  the  airy  robes  which  floated  in  the  wind. 
His  heart  paused,  it  beat  violently ;  still  the  figure  ad- 
vanced. Lost  in  the  wildness  of  his  imagination,  he  ex- 
claimed, "  Marion  !  "  and  darted  forwards  as  if  to  rush  into 
her  embrace.  But  it  fled,  and  again  vanished.  He  dropped 
upon  the  ground  in  speechless  disappointment. 

"  'T  is  false  !  "  said  he,  recovering  from  his  first  expecta- 
tion ;  "  't  is  a  phantom  of  my  own  creating.  The  pure 
spirit  of  Marion  would  never  fly  me, —  I  loved  her  too 
well.  She  would  not  thus  redouble  my  grief.  But  I  shall 
go  to  thee,  wife  of  my  soul !  "  cried  he,  "  and  that  is 
comfort." 

Such  were  his  words,  such  were  his  thoughts,  till  the 
coldness  of  the  hour  and  the  exhaustion  of  nature  putting 
a  friendly  seal  upon  his  disturbed  senses,  he  sunk  upon  the 
bank  and  fell  into  a  profound  sleep. 

When  he  awoke,  the  lark  was  carolling  above  his  head  ; 
and  to  his  surprise  he  found  that  a  plaid  was  laid  over  him. 
He  threw  it  off,  and  beheld  Edwin  seated  at  his  feet. 
"  This  has  been  your  doing,  my  kind  brother,"  said  he ; 
"  but  how  came  you  to  discover  me  ?  " 

"  I  missed  you  when  the  dawn  broke  ;  and  at  last  found 
you  here,  sleeping  under  the  dew." 

"  And  has  none  else  been  astir  1 "  inquired  Wallace, 
thinking  of  the  figure  he  had  seen. 

"  None  that  I  know  of.  All  were  fast  asleep  when  I  left 
the  circle." 

Wallace  began  to  fancy  that  he  had  been  laboring  under 
the  impressions  of  some  powerful  dream,  and,  saying  no 
more,  he  returned  to  the  wood.  Finding  his  party  ready, 
he  took  his  station  amongst  them,  and  setting  forth,  pro- 
ceeded cheerfully  though  slowly  through  the  delightful 
valleys  of  Barochan.  By  sunset  they  arrived  at  the  point 
where  they  were  to  embark.  The  journey  ought  to  have 
been  performed  in  half  the  time  ;  but  the  countess  peti- 
tioned for  long  rests,  —  a  compliance  of  gallantry  which 
the  younger  part  of  the  cavalcade  had  reluctantly  yielded. 


THE  FRITH  OF  CLYDE.  23  I 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

THE   FRITH   OF   CLYDE. 

AT  Gourock,  Murray  engaged  two  small  vessels,  —  the 
one  for  the  earl  and  the  countess,  with  Wallace  as 
their  escort,  and  the  other  for  himself  and  Edwin,  to  follow 
with  the  men. 

It  was  a  fine  evening,  and  they  embarked  with  a  brisk 
gale  in  their  favor.     The  mariners  calculated  on  reaching 


e< 


Bute  in  a  few  hours  ;  but  ere  they  had  been  half  an  hour 
at  sea  the  wind  veered  about,  and  obHged  them  to  woo  its 
breezes  by  a  traversing  motion,  which  though  it  lengthened 
their  voyage  increased  its  pleasantness,  as  it  carried  them 
often  within  near  views  of  the  ever  varying  shores.  As 
they  moved  under  a  side  wind  they  beheld  the  huge  irregu- 
lar rocks  of  Dunoon  overhanging  the  ocean,  and  from  their 
projecting  brows  hung  every  shrub  which  lives  in  that 
saline  atmosphere. 

"There,"  said  Lady  Mar,  gently  inclining  towards  Wal- 
lace, "  might  the  beautiful  mermaid  of  Corie  Vrekin  ^  keep 
her  court !  Observe  how  magnificently  those  arching  cliffs 
overhang  the  hollows,  and  how  richly  they  are  studded  with 
shells  and  sea-flowers  !  " 

No  flower  of  the  field  or  of  the  ocean  that  came  within 
the  ken  of  Wallace  wasted  its  sweetness  unadmired.  He 
assented  to  the  remarks  of  Lady  Mar,  who  eloquently 
expatiated  on  the  beauties  of  the  shores  which  they 
passed ;  and  the  hours  fled  pleasantly  away,  till  turning  the 
southern  point  of  the  Cowal  mountains  the  scene  suddenly 
changed.  The  wind,  which  had  gradually  arisen,  blew  a 
violent  gale  from  that  part  of  the  coast ;  and  the  sea,  being 
pent  between  the  rocks  which  skirt  the  continent  and  the 
northern  side  of  Bute,  became  so  boisterous  that  the  mar- 

1  The  dangerous  gulf  of  Corie  Vrekin  lies  between  the  shores  of  Jura 
and  Scarba.  Superstition  has  tenanted  its  shelves  and  eddies  with  every 
fabulous  daemon  of  the  ocean  ;  and  amongst  the  rest  tells  a  thousand  wild 
legends  of  a  beautiful  mermaid  who  holds  her  marine  court  beneath  its 
whirlpool.     Mr.  J.  Leyden  has  written  a  fine  ballad  on  this  subject. 


232  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

iners  began  to  think  they  should  be  driven  upon  the  rocks 
of  the  island  instead  of  reaching  its  bay.  Wallace  tore 
down  the  sails,  and  laid  his  nervous  arm  to  the  oar  to  keep 
the  vessel  off  the  breakers  against  which  the  waves  were 
driving  her.  The  sky  collected  into  a  gloom ;  and  while 
the  teeming  clouds  seemed  descending,  even  to  rest  upon 
the  cracking  masts,  the  swelling  of  the  ocean  threatened  to 
heave  her  up  into  their  very  bosoms. 

Lady  Mar  looked  with  affright  at  the  gathering  tempest, 
and  with  difficulty  was  persuaded  to  retire  under  the  shelter 
of  a  little  awning.  The  earl  forgot  his  debility  in  the  gen- 
eral terror,  and  tried  to  reassure  the  dismayed  mariners ; 
but  a  tremendous  sweep  of  the  gale  drove  the  vessel  far 
across  the  Isle  of  Bute,  and  shot  it  past  the  mouth  of  Loch 
Fyne,  towards  the  perilous  rocks  of  Arran.  "  Here  our 
destruction  is  certain  !  "  cried  the  master  of  the  bark. 

The  dismayed  crew  being  ignorant  of  the  navigation  of 
this  side  of  the  island,  Lord  Mar  called  to  Wallace,  who 
had  seized  the  helm  from  the  stupefied  master.  "  While  you 
keep  the  men  to  their  duty  in  clearing  the  vessel  of  water, 
and  in  rowing,"  cried  he,  "  as  the  less  laborious  task  I  will 
steer." 

The  earl  being  perfectly  acquainted  with  the  coast,  Wal- 
lace resigned  the  helm  to  him  ;  but  scarcely  had  he  stepped 
forward,  when  a  heavy  sea  broke  over  the  deck,  and  car- 
ried two  of  the  seamen  overboard.  Wallace  threw  out  a 
plank  and  a  rope,  and  called  to  the  men  to  seize  the  one  or 
the  other.  Amidst  a  spray  so  blinding  that  the  vessel  ap- 
peared in  a  cloud,  and  was  buffeted  on  each  side  by  the 
raging  waves  which  seemed  contending  to  tear  her  to 
pieces,  she  lay-to  for  a  few  minutes,  to  rescue  the  sailors 
from  the  yawning  gulf.  One  poor  creature  caught  by  the 
rope  and  was  saved,  but  the  other  was  seen  no  more. 

Again  the  bark  was  set  loose  to  the  current.  Wallace 
and  two  men  only  applied  their  strength  to  the  oars  ;  the 
master  and  another  were  employed  in  the  unceasing  toil  of 
laving  out  the  accumulating  water. 

Even  while  Wallace  tugged  at  the  oar,  watching  the 
thousand  embattled  cliffs  which  threatened  their  destruc- 
tion, his  eye  looked  for  the  vessel  which  contained  his 
friends.     But  the  liquid  mountains  which  rolled  around  him 


THE  FRITH  OF  CLYDE.  233 

prevented  all  view ;  and  with  hardly  a  hope  of  seeing  them 
more,  he  pursued  his  attempt  to  preserve  the  lives  of  those 
committed  to  his  care. 

All  this  wMle  Lady  Mar  lay  in  a  state  of  stupefaction. 
Having  famted  at  the  first  alarm  of  danger,  she  had  fallen 
from  swoon  to  swoon,  and  now  remained  almost  insensible 
upon  the  bosoms  of  her  maids.  In  a  moment  the  vessel 
struck  with  a  great  shock,  and  the  next  instant  it  seemed  to 
move  with  a  velocity  incredible.  "  The  whirlpool !  the 
whirlpool!"  resounded  from  every  lip.  But  the  next  in- 
stant the  rapid  motion  was  suddenly  checked,  and  the 
women,  fancying  they  had  struck  again,  shrieked  aloud. 
The  cry  and  the  terrified  words  which  accompanied  it 
aroused  Lady  Mar.  She  started  from  her  trance,  and 
while  the  confusion  redoubled,  rushed  forward  on  the 
deck. 

The  mountainous  waves  and  lowering  clouds,  borne  for- 
ward by  the  blast,  anticipated  the  dreariness  of  night.  The 
last  rays  of  the  setting  sun  had  long  passed  away,  and  the 
deep  shadows  of  the  driving  heavens  cast  the  whole  into  a 
gloom  even  more  terrific  than  absolute  darkness.  The 
high  and  beetling  rocks,  towering  aloft  in  precipitous  walls, 
mocked  the  hopes  of  the  sea-beaten  mariner  should  he  even 
buffet  the  waters  to  reach  their  base ;  and  the  jagged 
shingles,  deeply  shelving  beneath  the  waves  or  projecting 
their  pointed  summits  above,  showed  the  crew  where  the 
rugged  death  would  meet  them. 

A  little  onward,  a  thousand  massy  fragments,  rent  in 
former  tempests  from  their  summits,  lay  at  the  foundations 
of  the  immense  cliffs  which  faced  the  cause  of  their  pres- 
ent alarm,  —  a  whirlpool  almost  as  terrific  as  that  of  Scarba. 
The  moment  the  powerful  blast  drove  the  vessel  on  the 
outward  edge  of  the  first  circle  of  the  vortex,  Wallace 
leaped  from  the  deck  on  to  the  opposite  rocks,  and  with  the 
same  rope  in  las  hand  with  which  he  had  saved  the  life  of 
the  seaman,  he  called  to  the  men  to  follow  him  with  similar 
ropes,  fastened  like  his  own  to  the  head  and  stern  of  the 
vessel.  He  was  obeyed,  and  they  strove  by  towing  it  along 
to  stem  the  suction  of  the  current. 

It  was  at  this  instant  that  Lady  Mar  rushed  upon  deck. 
The  earl  perceived  her  the  moment  she  appeared.     "  In, 


234  ^-^^  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

for  your  life,  Joanna  !  "  cried  he.  She  answered  him  not, 
but  looked  wildly  around  her.  Nowhere  could  she  see 
Wallace.  "  Have  I  drowned  him .''  "  cried  she  in  a  voice  of 
frenzy ;  and  striking  the  women  from  her  who  would  have 
held  her  back,  she  exclaimed  :  "  Let  me  clasp  him,  even  in 
the  deep  waters  !  " 

"  Drowned  whom  ?  "  exclaimed  the  earl,  who  happily 
had  lost  the  last  sentence  in  the  roaring  of  the  storm. 

"  Wallace,  Wallace  !  "  cried  she,  wringing  her  hands,  and 
still  struggling  with  her  women.  At  that  moment  a  huge 
wave  sinking  before  her  discovered  the  object  of  her  fears 
standing  on  the  centre  of  a  rock,  —  or  rather,  followed  by 
the  men  in  the  same  laborious  task,  tugging  forward  the 
ropes  to  which  the  bark  was  attached.  She  gazed  at  them 
with  wonder  and  affright ;  for  notwithstanding  the  beating 
of  the  elements,  which  seemed  to  find  their  breasts  of  iron, 
and  their  feet  armed  with  some  preternatural  adhesion  to 
the  cliff,  they  continued  to  bear  along  the  vessel.  Fortu- 
nately they  did  not  now  labor  against  the  wind.  Some- 
times they  pressed  forward  on  the  level  edge  of  the  rock ; 
then  a  yawning  chasm  forced  them  to  leap  from  cliff  to 
cliff,  or  to  spring  on  some  more  elevated  projection.  Thus 
contending  with  the  vortex  and  the  storm,  they  at  last 
arrived  at  the  doubling  of  Cuthon  rock,^  the  point  that  was 
to  clear  them  of  this  minor  Corie  Vrekin.  At  this  moment 
the  rope  which  Wallace  held  broke,  and  with  the  shock  he 
fell  backwards  into  the  sea.  The  foremost  man,  who  saw 
it,  uttered  a  dreadful  cry ;  but  ere  it  was  echoed  by  his 
fellows,  Wallace  had  risen  above  the  waves,  and  beating 
their  whelming  waters  with  his  invincible  arm,  soon  gained 
the  vessel,  and  jumped  upon  the  deck.  The  point  was 
doubled,  and  the  next  instant  the  vessel  struck.  The  men 
on  the  rocks  cried,  "  There  is  no  hope  of  getting  her  off. 
All  must  take  to  the  water  or  perish." 

Again  Lady  Mar  appeared.  At  sight  of  Wallace  she 
forgot  everything  but  him,  and  perhaps  would  have  thrown 
herself  into  his  arms  had  not  the  anxious  earl  caught  her 
in  his  own. 

"  Are  we  to  die  ? "  cried  she  to  Wallace,  in  a  voice  of 
horror. 

1  Cuthoji  means  the  mournful  sound  of  waves. 


THE   FRITH  OF  CLYDE.  235 

"  I  trust  that  God  has  decreed  otherwise,"  was  his  reply. 
"  Compose  yourself,  and  all  may  be  well." 

As  Lord  Mar,  from  his  yet  unhealed  wounds,  could  not 
swim,  Wallace  tore  up  the  benches  of  the  rowers,  and  mak- 
ing a  small  raft,  placed  on  it  the  earl  and  countess,  with 
her  two  maids  and  the  child.  While  the  men  were  towing 
it  through  the  breakers,  he  jumped  into  the  sea  to  swim  by 
its  side,  and  be  in  readiness  in  case  of  accident. 

Having  gained  the  shore,  or  rather  the  broken  rocks  that 
lie  at  the  foot  of  the  stupendous  craigs  which  surround 
the  Isle  of  Arran,  Wallace  and  his  sturdy  assistants  con- 
veyed the  countess  and  her  terrified  women  up  their  accliv- 
ities. Fortunately  for  the  shipwrecked  voyagers,  though 
the  wind  raged,  its  violence  was  of  some  advantage,  for  it 
nearly  cleared  the  heavens  of  clouds,  and  allowed  the 
moon  to  send  forth  her  guiding  light.  By  her  lamp 
one  of  the  men  discovered  the  mouth  of  a  cavern,  where 
Wallace  gladly  sheltered  his  dripping  charges. 

The  child,  whom  he  had  guarded  in  his  own  arms  during 
the  difficult  ascent,  he  now  laid  on  the  bosom  of  its  mother. 
Lady  Mar  kissed  the  hand  that  relinquished  it,  and  gave 
way  to  a  flood  of  grateful  tears. 

The  earl,  as  he  sank  almost  powerless  against  the  side  of 
the  cave,  yet  had  strength  enough  to  press  Wallace  to  his 
heart.  "  Ever  preserver  of  me  and  mine  !  "  cried  he,  "  how 
must  I  bless  thee  !     My  wife,  my  child  —  " 

"  Have  been  saved  to  you,  my  friend,"  interrupted  Wal- 
lace, "by  the  presiding  care  of  Him  who  walked  the 
waves!  Without  His  especial  arm,  we  must  all  have  per- 
ished in  this  awful  night ;  therefore  let  our  thanksgivings 
be  directed  to  Him  alone." 

"  So  be  it ! "  returned  the  earl ;  and  dropping  on  his 
knees,  he  breathed  forth  so  pathetic  and  sublime  a  prayer  of 
thanks  that  the  countess  trembled  and  bent  her  head  upon 
the  bosom  of  her  child.  She  could  not  utter  the  solemn 
Amen  that  was  repeated  by  every  voice  in  the  cave.  Her  un- 
happy infatuation  saw  no  higher  power  in  this  great  preser- 
vation than  the  hand  of  the  man  she  adored.  She  felt  that 
guilt  was  cherished  in  her  heart,  and  she  could  not  lift  her 
eyes  to  join  with  those  who  with  the  boldness  of  innocence 
called  on  Heaven  to  attest  the  sanctity  of  their  vows. 


236  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

Sleep  soon  sealed  every  weary  eye  excepting  those  of 
Wallace.  A  racking  anxiety  respecting  the  fate  of  the 
other  vessel,  in  which  were  the  brave  men  of  Bothwell  and 
his  two  dear  friends,  filled  his  mind  with  dreadful  pictures 
of  what  might  have  been  their  distress,  and  with  sad  fore- 
bodings that  they  had  not  outlived  the  storm.  Sometimes 
when  wearied  nature  for  a  few  minutes  sunk  into  slumber 
he  would  start  grief-struck  from  the  body  of  Edwin  floating 
on  the  briny  flood ;  and  as  he  awoke,  a  cold  despondence 
would  tell  him  that  his  dream  was  perhaps  too  true.  "  Oh, 
I  love  thee,  Edwin  !  "  exclaimed  he  to  himself.  "  And  must 
my  devoted  heart  be  separated  from  all  but  a  patriot's  love ! 
Why  did  I  think  of  loving  thee  ?  Must  thou  too  die,  that 
Scotland  may  have  no  rival,  that  Wallace  may  feel  himself 
quite  alone  ?  " 

Thus  he  sat  musing,  and  listening  with  many  a  sigh  to 
the  dying  gusts  of  wind  and  fainter  dashing  of  the  water; 
at  last  the  former  gradually  subsided,  and  the  latter,  obeying 
the  retreating  tide,  sunk  away  in  hoarse  murmurs. 

Morning  began  to  dawn,  and  spreading  upon  the  moun- 
tains of  the  opposite  shore,  shed  a  soft  light  over  their 
misty  sides.  All  was  tranquil  and  full  of  beauty.  That 
element  which  had  lately  in  its  rage  threatened  to  engulf 
them  all,  now  flowed  by  the  rocks  at  the  foot  of  the  cave  in 
gentle  undulations ;  and  where  the  spiral  cliffs  gave  a  little 
resistance,  the  rays  of  the  rising  sun  striking  on  the  bursting 
waves  turned  their  vapory  showers  into  dropping  gems. 

As  his  companions  were  yet  wrapped  in  profound  sleep, 
Wallace  stole  away  to  learn  on  what  spot  of  the  Isle  of 
Arran  they  were  cast.  Close  by  the  mouth  of  the  cave  he 
saw  a  cleft  in  the  rock,  into  which  he  turned ;  and  finding 
the  footing  sufficiently  secure,  he  soon  gained  the  summit. 
Looking  around,  he  found  himself  at  the  skirts  of  a  chain 
of  high  hills,  which  seemed  to  stretch  from  side  to  side  of 
the  island,  while  their  tops  rose  in  alpine  succession  in  a 
thousand  grotesque  and  towering  forms.  The  ptarmigan 
and  capperkaily  were  screaming  from  the  upper  regions, 
and  the  nimble  roes  with  their  fawns  were  bounding 
through  the  green  defiles.  No  trace  of  human  habitation 
appeared.  But  from  the  size  and  population  of  the  island, 
Wallace  knew  he  could  not  be  far  from  inhabitants  j  and 


I 


THE  FRITH  OF  CLYDE.  237 

thinking  it  best  to  send  the  sailors  in  search  of  them,  he 
retraced  his  steps.  The  vapors  were  now  roIHng  in  snowy 
wreaths  down  the  opposite  mountains,  whose  heads  shining 
in  resplendent  purple  seemed  to  view  themselves  in  the 
bright  reflections  of  the  now  smooth  sea.  Nature,  like  a 
proud  conqueror,  appeared  to  have  put  on  a  triumphal 
garb,  in  exultation  of  the  devastation  she  had  committed 
the  night  before.  Wallace  shuddered  as  the  parallel  oc- 
curred to  his  mind,  and  turned  from  the  scene. 

As  soon  as  he  re-entered  the  cave  he  dispatched  the 
seamen,  while  he  watched  by  the  sides  of  his  still  sleeping 
friends.  An  hour  had  hardly  elapsed  before  the  men  re- 
turned, bringing  with  them  a  large  boat  and  its  proprietor, 
but,  alas  !  no  tidings  of  Murray  and  Edwin,  who,  he  had 
hoped,  might  have  been  driven  somewhere  on  the  island. 
In  bringing  the  boat  round  to  the  creek  under  the  rock, 
the  men  discovered  that  the  sea  had  driven  their  wreck, 
between  two  projecting  rocks,  where  it  now  lay  wedged. 
Though  ruined  as  a  vessel,  yet  sufificient  seemed  to  have 
held  together  to  warrant  their  exertions  to  save  the  property. 
Accordingly  they  entered  it,  and  drew  thence  most  of  the 
valuables  which  belonged  to  Lord  Mar. 

While  this  was  doing,  Wallace  re-ascended  to  the  cave, 
and  found  the  earl  awake.  Wallace  told  him  that  a  boat 
was  ready  for  their  re-embarkation.  "  But  where,  my  friend, 
are  my  nephews  ?  "  inquired  the  earl.  "  Alas,  that  this 
fatal  expedition  has  robbed  me  of  them ! " 

Wallace  tried  to  inspire  him  with  a  hope  he  hardly  dared 
credit  himself,  —  that  they  had  been  saved  on  some  more 
distant  shore.  The  voices  of  the  chiefs  awakened  the 
women,  but  the  countess  still  slept.  Aware  that  she  would 
resist  trusting  herself  to  the  waves  again.  Lord  Mar  desired 
that  she  might  be  taken  on  board  without  disturbing  her. 
This  was  readily  done,  as  the  men  had  only  to  take  up  the 
extremities  of  the  plaid  on  which  she  lay,  and  so  carry  her 
with  an  imperceptible  motion  to  the  boat.  The  earl  re- 
ceived her  head  on  his  bosom;  and  all  being  on  board,  the 
rowers  struck  their  oars,  and  once  more  they  launched  upon 
the  sea. 

While  they  were  yet  midway  between  the  isles,  with  a 
bright  sun  playing  its  beams  upon  the  gently  rippling  waves, 


238  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

the  countess,  heaving  a  deep  sigh,  slowly  opened  her  eyes. 
All  around  glared  with  the  light  of  day ;  she  felt  the  motion 
of  the  boat,  and  raising  her  head,  saw  that  she  was  again 
embarked  on  the  treacherous  element  on  which  she  had 
lately  experienced  so  many  terrors.  She  grew  deadly  pale, 
and  grasped  her  husband's  hand. 

"My  dear  Joanna,"  cried  he,  "be  not  alarmed,  we  are 
all  safe." 

"  And  Sir  William  Wallace  has  left  us  ?  "  demanded  she. 

"  No,  madam,"  answered  a  voice  from  the  steerage  ;  "  not 
till  this  party  be  safe  at  Bute,  do  I  quit  it." 

She  looked  around,  with  a  grateful  smile :  "  Ever  gener- 
ous !     How  could  I  for  a  moment  doubt  my  preserver !  " 

Wallace  bowed,  but  remained  silent;  and  the  countess 
sitting  up  and  noticing  her  child,  they  passed  calmly  along 
till  they  came  in  sight  of  a  birling,^  which,  bounding  over 
the  waves,  was  presently  so  near  the  earl's  boat  that  the 
figures  in  each  could  be  distinctly  seen ;  and  Wallace,  to 
his  rapturous  surprise,  beheld  Murray  and  Edwin.  The 
latter,  with  a  cry  of  joy,  leaped  into  the  sea,  and  in  the  next 
instant  was  over  the  boat  side  and  clasped  in  the  arms  of 
Wallace.  Real  transport,  true  happiness,  now  dilated  the 
heart  of  the  before  desponding  chief.  He  pressed  the  dear 
boy  again  and  again  to  his  bosom,  and  kissed  his  white 
forehead  with  all  the  rapture  of  the  fondest  brother.  "  Thank 
God  !  thank  God  !  "  was  all  that  Edwin  could  say ;  while  at 
every  effort  to  tear  himself  from  Wallace,  to  congratulate 
his  uncle  on  his  safety,  his  heart,  overflowing  towards  his 
friend,  opened  afresh,  and  he  clung  the  closer  to  his  breast ; 
till  at  last  exhausted  with  happiness,  the  young  hero  of 
Dumbarton  gave  way  to  the  sensibility  of  his  tender  age, 
and  the  chief  felt  his  bosom  wet  with  the  joy-drawn  tears 
of  his  youthful  knight. 

While  this  was  passing,  the  birling  had  drawn  close  to 
the  boat,  and  Murray  shook  hands  with  his  uncie  and  aunt, 
crying  to  Wallace,  "  That  urchin  is  such  a  monopolizer,  I 
see  you  have  not  a  greeting  for  any  one  else !  "  On  this 
Edwin  raised  his  face,  and  turned  to  the  affectionate  wel- 
comes of  Lord  Mar.  Wallace  stretched  out  his  hand  to  the 
ever  gay  Lord  Andrew,  and  inviting  him  into  the  boat,  soon 

1  Birlitig  is  a  small  boat  generally  used  by  fishers. 


THE  FRITH  OF  CLYDE.  239 

learned  that  on  the  fearful  night  of  the  storm  Murray  and 
his  company  made  direct  to  the  nearest  creek  in  Bute,  — 
not  doing  as  Wallace's  helmsman,  who,  until  danger  stopped 
him,  foolishly  continued  to  aim  for  Rothsay.  By  this  pru- 
dence, without  having  been  in  much  peril  or  sustained  any 
fatigue,  the  whole  party  landed  safely.  The  night  coming 
on  dark  and  tremendous,  and  not  doubting  that  the  earl's 
rowers  had  carried  him  into  a  similar  haven,  Murray  and 
his  j-oung  companion  kept  themselves  very  easy  in  a  fisher's 
hut  till  morning.  At  an  early  hour  they  put  themselves  at 
the  head  of  the  Bothwell  men,  and  expecting  they  should 
come  up  with  the  earl  and  his  party  at  Rothsay,  walked 
over  to  the  castle.  Their  consternation  was  unutterable 
when  they  found  that  Lord  Mar  was  not  there,  neither  had 
he  been  heard  of.  Full  of  terror,  Murray  and  Edwin  threw 
themselves  into  a  birling,  to  seek  their  friends  upon  the 
seas.  And  when  they  did  espy  them,  the  joy  of  Edwin  was 
so  great  that  not  even  the  unfathomable  gulf  could  stop 
him  from  flying  to  the  embrace  of  his  friend. 

While  mutual  felicitations  passed,  the  boats,  now  nearly 
side  by  side,  reached  the  shore ;  and  the  seamen,  jumping 
on  the  rocks,  moored  their  vessels  under  the  projecting 
towers  of  Rothsay.  The  old  steward  hastened  to  receive  a 
master  who  had' not  blessed  his  aged  eyes  for  many  a  year; 
and  when  he  took  the  infant  in  his  arms  that  was  to  be  the 
future  representative  of  the  house  of  Mar,  he  wept  aloud. 
The  earl  spoke  to  him  affectionately,  and  then  walked  on 
with  Edwin,  whom  he  called  to  support  him  up  the  bank. 
Murray  led  the  countess  out  of  the  boat,  while  the  Bothwell 
men  so  thronged  about  Wallace,  congratulating  themselves 
on  his  safety,  that  she  saw  there  was  no  hope  of  his  yielding 
to  her  his  arm. 

Having  entered  the  castle,  the  steward  led  them  into  a 
room  in  which  he  had  spread  a  plentiful  repast.  Here, 
Murray,  having  recounted  the  adventures  of  his  sail,  called 
for  a  history  of  what  had  befallen  his  friends.  The  earl 
gladly  took  up  the  tale ;  and  with  many  a  glance  of  grati- 
tude to  Wallace,  he  narrated  the  perilous  events  of  their 
shipwreck,  and  their  providential  preservation  on  the  Isle 
of  Arran. 

Happiness  now  seemed  to  have  shed  her  heavenly  in- 


240  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

fluence  over  every  bosom.  All  hearts  owned  the  grateful 
effects  of  the  late  rescue.  The  rapturous  joy  of  Edwin 
burst  into  a  thousand  sallies  of  ardent  and  luxuriant  imagi- 
nation ;  the  high  spirits  of  Murray  turned  every  transient 
subject  into  a  "  mirth-moving  jest ;  "  the  veteran  earl  seemed 
restored  to  health  and  to  youth.  And  even  Wallace  felt 
the  sun  of  consolation  expanding  in  his  bosom ;  he  had 
met  a  heart,  though  a  young  one,  on  which  his  soul  might  re- 
pose :  that  dear  selected  brother  of  his  affection  was  saved 
from  the  whelming  waves,  and  all  his  superstitious  dreams 
of  a  mysterious  doom  vanished  before  this  manifestation  of 
Heavenly  goodness.  His  friend  too,  the  gallant  Murray, 
was  spared !  How  many  subjects  had  he  for  unmurmuring 
gratitude !  and  with  an  unclouded  brow  and  happy  spirit 
he  yielded  to  the  impulse  of  the  scene.  He  smiled;  and 
with  an  endearing  graciousness  listened  to  every  fond 
speaker,  while  his  ingenuous  replies  bespoke  the  treasures 
of  love  which  sorrow  had  locked  within  his  heart. 

The  complacency  with  which  he  regarded  every  one,  —  the 
pouring  out  of  his  beneficent  spirit,  which  seemed  to  embrace 
all  as  his  dearest  kindred,  —  turned  every  eye  and  heart 
towards  him,  as  to  the  source  of  every  bliss,  as  to  a  being 
who  seemed  made  to  love  and  be  beloved  by  all.  Lady 
Mar  looked  at  him,  listened  to  him,  with  her  rapt  soul 
seated  in  her  eye.     In  his  presence  all  was  transport. 

But  when  he  withdrew  for  the  night,  what  was  then  the 
state  of  her  feelings  !  The  overflowing  of  heart  that  was 
felt  for  all,  she  appropriated  solely  to  herself.  The  sweet- 
ness of  his  voice,  the  unutterable  expression  of  his  coun- 
tenance, while  as  he  spoke  he  veiled  his  eyes  under  their 
long  brown  lashes,  raised  such  vague  hopes  in  her  bosom 
that,  he  being  gone,  she  hastened  her  adieus  to  the  rest,  — 
eager  to  retire  to  bed,  and  there  uninterruptedly  muse  on 
the  happiness  of  having  at  last  touched  the  heart  of  the 
man  for  whom  she  would  resign  all  the  world. 


ISLE   OF  BUTE.  24 1 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

ISLE   OF   BUTE. 


THE  morning  would  have  brought  annihilation  to  the 
countess's  new-fledged  hopes,  had  not  Murray  been  the 
first  to  meet  her  as  she  came  from  her  chamber. 

At  some  distance  from  the  castle,  on  the  cliffs,  he  met 
Wallace  and  Edwin.  They  had  already  been  across  the 
valley  to  the  haven,  and  had  ordered  a  boat  to  come  imme- 
diately round  to  convey  them  back  to  Gourock.  "  Post- 
pone your  flight,  for  pity's  sake  !  "  cried  Murray,  "  if  you 
would  not  destroy  by  discourtesy  what  your  gallantry  has 
preserved  !  "  He  then  told  them  that  Lady  Mar  was  pre- 
paring a  feast  in  the  glen  behind  the  castle;  "and  if  you 
do  not  stay  to  partake  it,"  added  he,  "  we  may  expect  all 
the  witches  in  the  isle  will  be  bribed  to  sink  us  before  we 
reach  the  shore." 

The  meeting  of  the  morning  was  not  less  cordial  than 
the  separation  of  the  night  before;  and  as  Lady  Mar  with- 
drew to  give  orders  for  her  rural  banquet,  time  was  left  to 
the  earl  for  the  arrangement  of  matters  of  more  conse- 
quence. In  a  conversation  which  he  had  with  Murray  the 
preceding  evening,  he  learned  that  just  before  the  party 
left  Dumbarton  a  letter  had  been  sent  to  Helen  at  St. 
Fillan's  informing  her  of  the  taking  of  the  castle  and  of 
the  safety  of  her  friends.  This  having  satisfied  the  earl,  he 
did  not  mention  her  at  all  to  Wallace,  —  as  he  ever  avoided 
encumbering  his  occupied  mind  with  domestic  subjects, 
and  therefore,  when  they  met,  their  conversation  generally 
turned  on  the  one  great  theme. 

While  the  earl  and  his  friends  were  marshalling  ar- 
mies, taking  towns,  and  storming  castles,  the  countess, 
intent  on  other  conquests,  was  meaning  to  destroy  that 
integrity  by  soft  delights  which  rugged  scenes  might  render 
invulnerable. 

When  her  lord  and  his  guests  were  summoned  to  the 
feast,  she  met  them  at  the  mouth  of  the  glen.  Having  tried 
VOL.  L—  16 


242  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

the  effect  of  splendor,  she  now  left  all  to  the  power  of  her 
natural  charms,  and  appeared  simply  clad  in  her  favorite 
green,  ^  now  peculiarly  so  because  she  saw  it  was  the  livery 
of  Wallace.  Moraig,  the  pretty  grandchild  of  the  steward, 
walked  beside  her,  like  the  fairy  queen  of  the  scene,  so 
smiling  did  she  look,  so  gayly  was  she  decorated  in  all  the 
flowers  of  spring.  "  Here  is  the  lady  of  my  elfin  revek, 
holding  her  little  king  in  her  arms  !  "  As  the  countess 
spoke,  Moraig  held  up  the  infant  of  Lady  Mar,  dressed 
like  herself,  in  a  tissue  gathered  from  the  field.  The  sweet 
babe  laughed  and  crowed,  and  made  a  spring  to  leap  into 
Wallace's  arms.  The  chief  took  him,  and  with  an  affec- 
tionate smile  pressed  his  little  cheek  to  his. 

Though  he  had  felt  the  repugnance  of  a  delicate  mind, 
and  the  shuddering  of  a  man  who  held  his  person  conse- 
crated to  the  memory  of  the  only  woman  he  had  ever  loved ; 
though  he  had  felt  these  sentiments  mingle  into  an  abhor- 
rence of  the  countess  when  she  allowed  her  head  to  drop 
on  his  breast  in  the  citadel ;  and  though  while  he  remained 
at  Dumbarton,  without  absolutely  charging  her  to  him- 
self with  anything  designedly  immodest,  he  had  certainl)' 
avoided  her,  —  yet  since  the  wreck,  the  danger  she  had 
escaped,  the  general  joy  of  all  meeting  again,  had  wiped 
away  even  the  remembrance  of  his  former  cause  of  dislike  ; 
and  he  now  sat  by  her  as  by  a  sister,  fondling  her  child, 
although  at  every  sweet  caress  it  reminded  him  of  what 
might  have  been  his,  —  of  hopes  lost  to  him  forever. 

The  repast  over,  the  piper  of  the  adjacent  cottages  ap- 
peared ;  and  placing  himself  on  a  projecting  rock,  at  the 
carol  of  his  merry  instrument  the  young  peasants  of  both 
sexes,  gayly  dressed  for  the  occasion,  came  forward  and 
began  the  dance.  At  this  sight  Edwin  seized  the  little 
hand  of  Moraig,  while  Lord  Andrew  called  a  pretty  lass 
from  amongst  the  rustics,  and  joined  the  group.  The 
happy  earl,  with  many  a  hearty  laugh,  enjoyed  the  jollity  of 
his  people  ;  and  while  the  steward  stood  at  his  lord's  back, 
describing  whose  sons  and  daughters  passed  before  him  in 
the  reel.  Mar  remembered  their  parents,  their  fathers  once 
his  companions  in  the  chase  or  on  the  wave,   and  their 

'  Green  was  a  color  much  worn  by  the  ladies  in  the  early  ages  of 
Scotland. 


ISLE   OF  BUTE.  243 

mothers  the  pretty  maidens  he  used  to  pursue  over  the  hills 
in  the  merry  time  of  shealing.  ^ 

Lady  Mar  watched  the  countenance  of  Wallace  as  he 
looked  upon  the  happy  group  ;  it  was  placid,  and  a  soft 
complacency  illumined  his  eye.  How  different  was  the 
expression  in  hers,  had  he  marked  it !  All  within  her  was 
in  tumult  and  its  characters  were  but  too  legibly  imprinted 
on  her  face.  But  he  did  not  look  on  her ;  for  the  child, 
whom  the  perfume  of  the  flowers  overpowered,  began- to 
cry.  He  rose,  and  having  resigned  it  to  the  nurse  turned 
into  a  narrow  vista  of  trees,  and  walked  slowly  on,  uncon- 
scious whither  he  went. 

Lady  Mar,  with  an  eager  though  almost  aimless  haste, 
followed  him  with  a  light  step  till  she  saw  him  turn  out  of 
the  vista,  and  then  she  lost  sight  of  him.  To  walk  with 
him  undisturbed  in  so  deep  a  seclusion,  to  improve  the 
impression  which  she  was  sure  she  had  made  upon  his 
heart,  to  teach  him  to  forget  his  Marion,  in  the  hope  of  one 
day  possessing  her,  —  all  these  thoughts  ran  in  this  vain 
woman's  head ;  and  inwardly  rejoicing  that  the  shattered 
health  of  her  husband  promised  her  a  ready  freedom  to  be- 
come the  wife  of  the  man  to  whom  she  would  gladly  belong, 
in  honor  or  in  dishonor,  she  hastened  forward,  as  if  the 
accomplishment  of  her  wishes  depended  on  this  meeting. 
Peeping  through  the  trees,  she  saw  him  standing  with 
folded  arms,  looking  intently  into  the  bosom  of  a  large 
lake,  which  was  so  thickly  surrounded  with  willows  she 
could  only  perceive  him  as  the  wind  tossed  aside  the 
branches. 

Having  stood  for  some  time,  he  walked  on.  Several 
times  she  essayed  to  emerge  and  join  him ;  but  a  sudden 
awe  of  him,  a  conviction  of  that  saintly  purity  which  would 
shrink  from  the  guilty  vows  she  was  meditating  to  pour 
into  his  ear,  a  recollection  of  the  ejaculation  with  which  he 
had  accosted  her  before,  when  her  hovering  figure  haunted 
his  footsteps  on  the  banks  of  the  Cart,  —  these  thoughts 
made  her  pause.  He  might  again  mistake  her  for  the  same 
dear  object !  This  image  it  was  not  her  interest  to  recall ; 
and  to  approach  him  near,  to  unveil  her  heart  to  him,  and 

'  Shealing,  the  process  of  the  shepherds  ascending  into  the  mountains 
at  a  certain  time  of  the-year,  to  feed  their  flocks. 


244  ^-^^^  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

to  be  repulsed,  —  there  was  madness  in  the  idea,  and  she 
retreated. 

She  had  no  sooner  returned  to  the  scene  of  festivity, 
than  she  repented  having  allowed  what  she  deemed  an  idle 
alarm  of  over-strained  delicacy  to  drive  her  from  the  lake. 
She  would  have  hastened  back  had  not  two  or  three  aged 
female  peasants  engaged  her,  in  spite  of  her  struggles  for 
extrication,  to  listen  to  long  stories  respecting  her  lord's 
youth.  She  had  been  with  these  women  and  by  the  side 
of  the  dancers  for  nearly  an  hour  before  Wallace  re-ap- 
peared. She  sprung  from  them  as  he  approached  :  "  Where, 
truant,  have  you  been  ?  " 

"  In  a  beautiful  solitude,"  returned  he,  "  amongst  a  luxu- 
riant grove  of  willows." 

"  Ay,"  cried  she,  "it  is  called  Glenshealeach  ^  ;  and  a  sad 
scene  was  acted  there !  About  ten  years  ago,  a  lady  of 
this  island  drowned  herself  in  the  lake  they  hang  over, 
because  the  man  she  loved  despised  her." 

"  Unhappy  woman  !  "  observed  Wallace. 

"  Then  you  would  have  pitied  her .''  "  rejoined  Lady  Mar. 

"He  cannot  be  a  man  that  would  not  pity  a  woman 
under  those  circumstances." 

"  Then  you  would  not  have  consigned  her  to  such  a 
fate  ? " 

Wallace  was  startled  by  the  peculiar  tone  in  which  this 
simple  question  was  asked.  It  recalled  the  action  in  the 
citadel ;  and  unconsciously  turning  a  penetrating  look  on 
her,  his  eyes  met  hers.  He  need  not  have  heard  further  to 
have  learned  more.  She  hastily  looked  down  and  colored ; 
and  he,  wishing  to  misunderstand  a  language  so  disgrace- 
ful to  herself,  so  dishonoring  to  her  husband,  gave  some 
trifling  answer,  and  making  some  observation  about  the 
earl,  advanced  towards  him.  Lord  Mar  was  tired  with  the 
scene,  and  taking  the  arm  of  Wallace,  they  returned 
together  into  the  house. 

Edwin  and  Murray  soon  followed,  and  arrived  time 
enough  to  see  their  little  pinnace  draw  up  under  the 
castle  and  throw  out  her  moorings.  The  countess,  too, 
saw  its  blue  streamers ;  and  hastening  into  the  room  where 

'  Glenshcaleach  means  "  valley  of  willows." 


ISLE   OF  BUTE.  245 

the  young  chieftains  sat,  —  for  the  earl,  being  over-wearied, 
had  retired  to  repose,  —  inquired  the  reason  of  that  boat 
having  drawn  so  near  tlie  castle. 

"  Only  that  it  may  take  us  from  it,"  replied  Murray. 

The  countess  fixed  her  eyes  with  an  unequivocal  expres- 
sion upon  Wallace.  "  My  gratitude  is  ever  due  to  your 
kindness,  my  dear  madam,"  said  he,  still  wishing  to  be 
blind  to  what  he  could  not  but  perceive ;  "  and  that  we 
may  ever  deserve  it,  we  go  to  keep  the  enemy  from  your 
doors." 

"Yes,"  added  Murray,  "and  to  keep  a  more  insidious 
foe  from  our  own  !  Edwin  and  I  feel  it  rather  dangerous 
to  bask  too  long  in  these  sunny  bowers." 

"  But  surely  your  chief  is  not  afraid  !  "  said  she,  casting 
a  soft  glance  at  Wallace. 

"  Nevertheless  I  must  fly,"  returned  he,  bowing  to  her. 

"  That  you  positively  shall  not,"  added  she,  with  a  flut- 
tering joy  at  her  heart,  thinking  she  was  about  to  conquer ; 
"  you  stir  not  this  night,  else  I  shall  brand  you  all  as  a  band 
of  cowards." 

"  Call  us  by  all  the  names  in  the  poltroon's  calendar," 
cried  Murray,  seeing  by  the  countenance  of  Wallace  that 
his  resolution  was  not  moved,  "  and  I  shall  gallop  off  from 
your  black-eyed  Judith  as  if  chased  by  Cupid  himself." 

"  So,  dear  aunt,"  rejoined  Edwin,  smiling,  "  if  you  do 
not  mean  to  play  Circe  to  our  Ulysses,  give  us  leave  to 


go!" 


Lady  Mar  looked  at  the  boy  intently,  as  he  innocently 
uttered  these  words.  "  Are  you  indeed  my  nephew .? " 
whispered  she.  A  strange  jealousy  glanced  on  her  heart. 
She  had  never  seen  Edwin  Ruthven  ;  the  blooming  cheek 
of  this  youth,  his  smooth  skin,  his  almost  impassioned  fond- 
ness for  Wallace,  —  all  made  a  wild  suspicion  rush  upon 
her  mind. 

Edwin,  scarcely  understanding  her  question,  answered 
gayly,  "  I  hope  so,  for  I  am  Lord  Mar's ;  and  besides,  I 
love  to  be  related  to  all  handsome  ladies  !  "  As  he  spoke, 
he  snatched  a  kiss  from  her  hand,  and  darted  after  Murray, 
who  had  disappeared  to  give  some  speeding  directions  re- 
specting the  boat. 

Left  thus  alone  with  the  object  of  her  every  wish,  in  the 


246  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

moment  when  she  thought  she  was  going  to  lose  him  per- 
haps forever,  she  forgot  all  prudence,  all  reserve ;  and  lay- 
ing her  hand  on  his  arm,  as  with  a  respectful  bow  he  also 
was  moving  away,  she  arrested  his  steps.  She  held  him 
fast,  but  agitation  prevented  her  speaking;  she  trembled 
violently,  and  weeping  dropped  her  head  upon  his  shoulder. 
He  was  motionless.  Her  tears  redoubled.  He  felt  the 
embarrassment  of  his  situation ;  and  at  last  extricating  his 
tongue,  which  surprise  and  shame  for  her  had  chained,  in 
a  gentle  voice  he  inquired  the  cause  of  her  uneasiness.  "  If 
for  the  safety  of  your  nephews  —  " 

"  No,  no !  "  cried  she,  interrupting  him,  "  read  my  fate  in 
that  of  the  Lady  of  Glenshealeach  !  " 

Again  he  was  silent ;  astonished,  fearful  of  too  promptly 
understanding  so  disgraceful  a  truth,  he  found  no  words  in 
which  to  answer  her,  and  her  emotions  became  so  uncon- 
trolled that  he  expected  she  would  swoon  in  his  arms. 

"  Cruel,  cruel  Wallace !  "  at  last  cried  she,  clinging  to  his 
arms ;  for  he  had  once  or  twice  attempted  to  disengage  and 
reseat  her  on  the  bench,  "  your  heart  is  steeled,  or  it  would 
understand  mine.  It  would  at  least  pity  the  wretchedness 
it  has  created.  But  I  am  despised,  and  I  can  yet  find  the 
watery  grave  from  which  you  rescued  me." 

To  dissemble  longer  would  have  been  folly.  Wallace 
now  resolutely  took  the  countess  by  both  her  arms,  and 
seating  her,  though  with  gentleness,  addressed  her.  "  Your 
husband.  Lady  Mar,  is  my  friend;  had  I  even  a  heart  to 
give  to  woman,  not  one  sigh  should  arise  in  it  to  his  dis- 
honor. But  I  am  lost  to  all  warmer  affections  than  that  of 
friendship.  I  may  regard  man  as  my  brother,  woman  as 
my  sister ;  but  never  more  can  I  look  on  female  form  with 
love." 

Lady  Mar's  tears  now  flowed  in  a  more  tempered  current. 

"  But  were  it  otherwise,"  cried  she,  "  only  tell  me  that 
had  I  not  been  bound  with  chains  which  my  kinsmen  forced 
upon  me,  —  had  I  not  been  made  the  property  of  a  man 
who,  however  estimable,  was  of  too  paternal  years  for  me 
to  love,  —  ah,  tell  me  if  these  tears  should  have  flowed  in 
vain  ?  " 

Wallace  seemed  to  hesitate  what  to  answer. 

Wrought  up  to  agony,  she  threw  herself  on  his  breast, 


ISLE   OF  BUTE.  247 

exclaiming :  "  Answer,  but  drive  me  not  to  despair !  I 
never  loved  man  before ;  and  now  to  be  scorned  —  Oh, 
kill  me  too,  dear  Wallace,  but  tell  me  not  that  you  never 
could  have  loved  me." 

Wallace  was  alarmed  at  her  vehemence.  "  Lady  Mar," 
returned  he,  "  I  am  incapable  of  saying  anything  to  you 
that  is  inimical  to  your  duty  to  the  best  of  men,  I  will 
even  forget  this  distressing  conversation,  and  continue 
through  life  to  revere,  equally  with  himself,  the  wife  of  my 
friend." 

"  And  I  am  to  be  stabbed  with  this  ?  "  replied  she,  in  a 
voice  of  indignant  anguish. 

"  You  are  to  be  healed  with  it.  Lady  Mar,"  returned  he ; 
"  for  it  is  not  a  man  like  the  rest  of  his  sex  that  now  ad- 
dresses you,  but  a  being  whose  heart  is  petrified  to  marble.  I 
could  feel  no  throb  of  yours,  I  should  be  insensible  to  all 
your  charms,  were  I  even  vile  enough  to  see  no  evil  in 
trampling  upon  your  husband's  rights.  Yes,  were  virtue 
lost  to  me,  still  Memory  would  speak;  still  would  she  urge 
that  the  chaste  and  last  kiss  imprinted  by  my  wife  on  these 
lips  should  live  there  in  unblemished  sanctity  till  I  again 
meet  her  angel  embraces  in  the  world  to  come  ! " 

The  countess,  awed  by  his  solemnity,  but  not  put  from  her 
suit,  exclaimed,  "What  she  was  I  would  be  to  thee,  — thy 
consoler,  thine  adorer !  Time  may  set  me  free.  Oh,  till  then, 
only  give  me  leave  to  love  thee,  and  I  shall  be  happy  !  " 

"  You  dishonor  yourself,  lady,"  returned  he,  "  by  these 
petitions.  And  for  what  ?  You  plunge  your  soul  in  guilty 
wishes  ;  you  sacrifice  your  peace  and  your  self-esteem  to  a 
phantom,  —  for,  I  repeat,  I  am  dead  to  woman,  and  the 
voice  of  love  sounds  like  the  funeral  knell  of  her  who  will 
never  breathe  it  to  me  more."  He  rose  as  he  spoke.  And 
the  countess,  pierced  to  the  heart,  and  almost  despairing  of 
now  retaining  any  part  of  his  esteem,  was  devising  what 
next  to  say,  when  Murray  came  into  the  room. 

Wallace  instantly  observed  that  his  countenance  was 
troubled.     "  What  has  happened  ?  "  inquired  he. 

"  A  messenger  from  the  mainland,  with  bad  news  from 
Ayr." 

"  Are  they  of  private  or  public  import  ? "  rejoined 
Wallace. 


248  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

"  Of  both.  There  has  been  a  horrid  massacre,  in  which 
the  heads  of  many  noble  famihes  have  fallen."  As  he 
spoke,  the  paleness  of  his  countenance  revealed  to  his 
friend  that  part  of  the  information  he  had  found  himself 
unable  to  communicate. 

"  I  comprehend  my  loss,"  cried  Wallace.  "  Sir  Ronald 
Crawford  is  slain  !     Bring  the  messenger  in." 

Murray  withdrew;  and  Wallace,  seating  himself,  re- 
mained with  a  fixed  and  stern  countenance,  gazing  on  the 
ground.  Lady  Mar  durst  not  breathe  for  fear  of  disturb- 
ing the  horrid  stillness  which  seemed  to  lock  up  his  grief 
and  indignation. 

Lord  Andrew  re-entered  with  a  stranger. 
Wallace    rose    to   meet  him ;    and   seeing   Lady   Mar, 
"  Countess,"  said  he,   "  these  bloody  recitals  are  not  for 
your  ears."     And  waving  her  to  withdraw,  she  left  the 
room. 

"This  gallant  stranger,"  said  Murray,  "is  Sir  John 
Graham.  He  has  just  left  that  new  theatre  of  Southron 
treachery." 

"  I  have  hastened  hither,"  cried  the  knight,  "  to  call 
your  victorious  arm  to  take  a  signal  vengeance  on  the 
murderers  of  your  grandfather.  He  and  eighteen  other 
Scottish  chiefs  have  been  treacherously  put  to  death  in  the 
Barns  of  Ayr."  ^ 

Graham  then  gave  a  brief  narration  of  the  direful  cir- 
cumstance. He  and  his  father,  Lord  Dundaff,  having  been 
on  the  south  coast  of  Scotland,  in  their  way  homeward, 
stopped  to  rest  at  Ayr.  They  arrived  there  the  very  day 
that  Lord  Aymer  de  Valence  entered,  a  fugitive  from  Dum- 
barton castle.  Much  as  that  earl  wished  to  keep  the  vic- 
tory of  Wallace  a  secret  from  the  inhabitants  of  Ayr,  he 
found  it  impossible.  Two  or  three  fugitive  soldiers  whis- 
pered the  hard  fighting  they  had  endured  ;  and  in  half  an 
hour  after  the  arrival  of  the  English  earl,  every  soul  knew 
that  the  recovery  of  Scotland  was  begun.  Elated  with  this 
intelligence,  the  Scots  went  under  night  from  house  to 
house,  congratulating   one  another  on  so   miraculous  an 

'  The  Bams  of  Ayr  were  the  barracks  (or  palace)  built  in  that  town 
by  King  Edward  for  the  occasional  residence  of  his  viceroy,  the  lord 
warden. 


ISLE   OF  BUTE.  249 

interference  in  their  favor;  and  many  stole  to  Sir  Ronald 
Crawford  to  felicitate  tlie  venerable  Icniglit  on  his  glorious 
grandson.  The  good  old  man  listened  with  meek  joy  to 
their  animated  eulogiums  on  Wallace;  and  when  Lord 
Dundaff  offered  his  congratulations  with  the  rest,  and 
said,  "  But  when  all  Scotland  lay  in  vassalage,  where  did 
he  imbibe  this  spirit  to  tread  down  tyrants  ?  "  the  venerable 
patriarch  replied :  "  He  was  always  a  noble  boy.  In 
infancy  he  was  the  defender  of  every  child  whom  he  saw 
oppressed  by  boys  of  greater  power;  he  was  even  the 
champion  of  the  brute  creation,  for  no  poor  animal  was 
ever  allowed  to  be  tortured  near  him.  The  old  looked  on 
him  for  comfort,  the  young  for  protection.  From  infancy 
to  manhood  he  has  been  a  benefactor;  and  though  the 
cruelty  of  our  enemies  has  widowed  his  youthful  years, 
though  he  should  go  childless  to  the  grave,  the  brightness 
of  his  virtues  will  spread  more  glories  round  the  name  of 
Wallace  than  a  thousand  posterities." 

The  next  morning  this  venerable  old  man  and  other 
chiefs  of  similar  consequence  were  summoned  by  Sir  Rich- 
ard Arnulf  to  the  governor's  palace,  —  there  to  deliver  in  a 
schedule  of  their  estates,  that  quiet  possession  might  be 
granted  to  them  under  the  great  seal  of  Lord  Aymer  de 
Valence,  the  Deputy  Warden  of  Scotland. 

The  gray-headed  knight,  not  being  so  active  as  his  com- 
peers of  more  juvenile  years,  happened  to  be  the  last  who 
entered  this  tiger's  den.  Wrapped  in  a  tartan  plaid,  his 
silver  hair  covered  with  a  blue  bonnet,  and  leaning  on  his 
staff,  he  was  walking  along  attended  by  two  domestics, 
when  Sir  John  Graham  met  him  at  the  gate  of  the  palace. 
He  smiled  on  him  as  he  passed,  and  whispered  :  "  It  will 
not  be  long  before  my  Wallace  makes  even  the  forms  of 
vassalage  unnecessary ;  and  then  these  failing  limbs  may 
sit  undisturbed  at  home,  under  the  fig-tree  and  vine  of  his 
planting !  " 

"  God  grant  it !  "  returned  Graham ;  and  he  saw  Sir 
Ronald  admitted  within  the  interior  gate.  The  servants 
were  ordered  to  remain  without.  Sir  John  walked  there 
some  time,  expecting  the  re-appearance  of  the  knight,  whom 
he  intended  to  assist  in  leading  home  ;  but  after  an  hour's 
stay,  finding  no  signs  of  regress  from  the  palace,  he  thought 


250  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

his  father  might  be  wondering  at  his  delay,  and  turned  his 
steps  towards  his  own  lodgings.  As  he  passed  along  he 
met  several  Southron  detachments  hurrying  across  the 
streets.  In  the  midst  of  some  of  these  companies  he  saw 
one  or  two  Scottish  men  of  rank,  strangers  to  him,  but 
who  by  certain  indications  seemed  to  be  prisoners.  He  did 
not  go  far  before  he  met  a  chieftain  whom  he  knew,  in 
these  painful  circumstances ;  but  as  he  was  hastening 
towards  him,  the  noble  Scot  raised  his  manacled  hand  and 
turned  away  his  head.  This  was  a  warning  to  the  young 
knight ;  and  darting  into  an  obscure  alley  which  led  to  the 
gardens  of  his  father's  lodgings,  he  was  hurrying  forward, 
when  he  saw  one  of  Lord  Dundaff's  men  running  towards 
him. 

Panting  with  haste,  he  informed  him  that  a  party  of 
armed  men  had  come  under  De  Valence's  warrant,  to  seize 
Lord  Dundaff  and  to  take  him  to  prison, — there  to  he 
with  others,  who  were  charged  with  having  taken  a  part 
in  a  conspiracy  with  the  grandfather  of  the  insurgent 
Wallace. 

The  officer  of  the  band  who  took  Lord  Dundaff  told  him 
in  the  most  insulting  language  that  "  Sir  Ronald,  his  ring- 
leader, with  eighteen  nobles  his  accomplices,  had  already 
suffered  the  punishment  of  their  crime,  and  were  lying 
headless  trunks  in  the  judgment-hall." 

"  Fly,  therefore,"  repeated  the  man ;  "  fly  to  Sir  William 
Wallace,  and  require  his  hand  to  avenge  his  kinsman's 
blood,  and  to  free  his  countrymen  from  prison.  These  are 
your  father's  commands  ;  he  directed  me  to  seek  you  out, 
and  to  give  them  to  you." 

Alarmed  for  the  life  of  his  father,  Graham  hesitated  how 
to  act.  To  leave  him  seemed  to  be  abandoning  him  to  the 
death  the  others  had  received,  —  and  yet  only  by  obeying 
him  could  he  have  any  hopes  of  averting  his  threatened 
fate.  Once  seeing  the  path  he  ought  to  pursue,  he  imme- 
diately struck  into  it;  and  giving  his  signet  to  the  man,  to 
assure  Lord  Dundaff  of  his  obedience,  he  mounted  a  horse, 
which  his  faithful  clansman  had  brought  to  the  town  end, 
and  setting  off  full  speed,  allowed  nothing  to  stay  him  till 
he  reached  Dumbarton  castle.  There,  hearing  that  Wal- 
lace was  gone  to  Bute,  he  threw  himself  into  a  boat,  and 


ISLE   OF  BUTE.  25  I 

plying  every  oar  reached  that  island  in  a  shorter  space  of 
time  than  the  voyage  had  ever  before  been  completed. 

Being  now  brought  into  the  presence  of  the  chief,  he 
narrated  his  dismal  tale  with  a  simplicity  and  pathos  which 
would  have  instantly  drawn  the  sword  of  Wallace  had  he 
had  no  kinsman  to  avenge,  no  friend  to  release  from  the 
Southron  dungeons.  But  as  the  case  stood,  his  bleeding 
grandfather  lay  before  his  eyes,  and  the  axe  hung  over  the 
head  of  the  virtuous  nobles  of  his  country. 

He  heard  the  chieftain  to  an  end,  without  speaking  or 
altering  the  fixed  determination  of  his  countenance.  But 
at  the  close,  with  an  augmented  suffusion  of  blood  in  his 
face,  and  his  brows  denouncing  some  tremendous  fate, 
he  rose.     "  Sir  John  Graham,"  said  he,  "  I   attend  you." 

"  Whither  ? "  demanded  Murray. 

"  To  Aj-r,"  answered  Wallace.  "  This  moment  I  will  set 
out  for  Dumbarton,  to  bring  away  the  sinews  of  my 
strength ;  and  then  this  arm  shall  show  how  I  loved  that 
good  old  man." 

"  Your  men,"  interrupted  Graham,  "  are  already  awaiting 
you  on  the  opposite  shore.  I  presumed  to  command  for 
you;  for  on  entering  Dumbarton  and  finding  you  were 
absent,  after  having  briefly  recounted  my  errand  to  Lord 
Lennox,  I  dared  to  interpret  your  mind,  and  to  order  Sir 
Alexander  Scrymgeour  and  Sir  Roger  Kirkpatrick,  with  all 
your  own  force,  to  follow  me  to  the  coast  of  Renfrew." 

"  Thank  you,  my  friend  ! "  cried  Wallace,  grasping  his 
hand ;  "  you  read  my  soul.  We  go  directly.  I  cannot  stay 
to  bid  your  uncle  farewell,"  said  he  to  Lord  Andrew.  "  Re- 
main, and  tell  him  to  bless  me  with  his  prayers  ;  and  then, 
dear  Murray,  follow  me  to  Ayr." 

Ignorant  of  what  the  stranger  had  imparted,  at  the  sight 
of  the  chiefs  approaching  from  the  castle  gate  Edwin  has- 
tened with  the  news  that  all  was  ready  for  embarkation. 
He  was  hurrying  out  his  information,  when  the  altered 
countenance  of  his  general  checked  him.  He  looked  at 
the  stranger;  his  features  were  agitated  and  severe.  He 
turned  towards  his  cousin ;  all  there  was  grave  and  dis- 
tressed. Again  he  glanced  at  Wallace  ;  but  every  look 
threatened,  no  word  was  spoken,  and  Edwin  saw  him  leap 
into  the  boat,  followed  by  the  stranger.     The  astonished 


252  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

boy,   though    unnoticed,   would  not  be   left  behind,    and 
stepping  in  also,  sat  down  beside  his  chief. 

"  I  shall  follow  you  in  an  hour,"  exclaimed  Murray. 

The  seamen  pushed  off ;  and  giving  loose  to  their  swelling 
sail,  in  five  minutes  they  were  wafted  out  of  the  little 
harbor,  and  turning  a  point,  lost  sight  of  the  castle. 

"  Here  is  a  list  of  the  murdered  chiefs,  and  of  those  who 
are  in  the  dungeons  expecting  the  like  treatment,"  said 
Graham,  holding  out  a  parchment.  "It  was  given  to  me 
by  my  faithful  servant." 

Wallace  took  it,  but  seeing  his  grandfather's  name  at  the 
top,  he  could  look  no  further  ;  closing  the  scroll,  "  Gallant 
Graham,"  said  he,  "  I  want  no  stimulus  to  urge  me  to  the 
extirpation  I  meditate.  If  God  blesses  my  arms,  not  one 
perpetrator  of  this  horrid  massacre  shall  be  alive  to-morrow 
to  repeat  the  deed." 

"  What  massacre  ?  "  Edwin  ventured  to  inquire.  Wal- 
lace put  the  parchment  into  his  hand.  Edwin  opened  the 
roll,  and  on  seeing  the  words,  "  A  List  of  the  Scottish  Chiefs 
murdered  on  the  i8th  of  June,  1297,  in  the  Judgment  Hall 
of  the  English  Barons  at  Ayr,"  his  cheek,  rendered  pale 
by  the  suspense  of  his  mind,  now  reddened  with  the  hue 
of  indignation.  But  when  immediately  afterwards  the  ven- 
erated name  of  his  general's  grandfather  met  his  sight,  his 
horror-struck  eye  sought  the  face  of  Wallace  ;  it  was  dark  as 
before,  and  he  was  now  in  earnest  discourse  with  Graham. 

Forbearing  to  interrupt  him,  Edwin  continued  to  read 
over  the  blood-registered  names.  In  turning  the  page  his 
eye  glanced  to  the  opposite  side  ;  and  he  saw  at  the  head 
of  A  List  of  Prisoners  in  the  Dungeons  of  Ayr  the  name  of 
Lord  Dundaff,  and  immediately  after,  that  of  Lord  Ruth- 
ven  !  He  uttered  a  piercing  cry,  and  extending  his  arms  to 
Wallace,  who  turned  round  at  so  unusual  a  sound,  the  ter- 
ror-struck boy  exclaimed,  "  My  father  is  in  their  hands  !  Oh, 
if  you  are  indeed  my  brother,  fly  to  Ayr  and  save  him  ! " 

Wallace  took  up  the  open  list,  which  Edwin  had  dropped  ; 
he  saw  the  name  of  Lord  Ruthven  amongst  the  prisoners, 
and  folding  his  arms  around  this  affectionate  son,  "  Com- 
pose yourself,"  said  he  ;  "  it  is  to  Ayr  I  am  going ;  and  if 
the  God  of  justice  be  my  speed,  your  father  and  Lord  Dun- 
daff shall  not  see  another  day  in  prison." 


i 


ISLE   OF  BUTE.  253 

Edwin  threw  himself  on  the  neck  of  his  friend.  "  My 
benefactor  !  "  was  all  he  could  utter.  Wallace  pressed  him 
silently  in  his  arms. 

"Who  is  this  amiable  youth?"  inquired  Graham;  "to 
which  of  the  noble  companions  of  my  captive  father  is  he 
son .? " 

"  To  William  Ruthven,"  ^  answered  Wallace,  "  the  val- 
iant Lord  of  the  Carse  of  Gowrie.  And  it  is  a  noble  scion 
from  so  glorious  a  root.  He  it  was  that  enabled  me  to  win 
Dumbarton.  Look  up,  my  brother  !  "  cried  Wallace,  tiy- 
ing  to  regain  so  tender  a  mind  from  the  paralyzing  terrors 
which  had  seized  it ;  "  look  up,  and  hear  me  recount  the 
first  fruits  of  your  maiden  arms  to  our  gallant  friend  !  " 

Covered  with  blushes,  arising  from  anxious  emotion  as 
well  as  from  a  happy  consciousness  of  having  won  the 
praises  of  his  general,  Edwin  rose  from  his  breast,  and  bow- 
ing to  Sir  John,  still  leaned  his  head  upon  the  shoulder  of 
Wallace.  That  amiable  being,  who  in  seeking  to  wipe  the 
tear  of  affliction  from  the  cheek  of  others  minded  not  the 
drops  of  blood  which  were  distilling  in  secret  from  his  own 
heart,  began  the  recital  of  his  first  acquaintance  with  his 
young  Sir  Edwin.  He  enumerated  every  particular  of  his 
bringing  the  detachment  from  Bothwell,  through  the  enemy- 
encircled  mountains,  to  Glenfinlass  ;  of  his  scaling  the  walls 
of  Dumbarton,  to  make  the  way  smooth  for  the  Scots  to 
ascend,  and  of  his  after  prowess  in  that  well  defended  fort- 
ress. As  Wallace  proceeded,  the  wonder  of  Graham  was 
raised  to  a  pitch  only  to  be  equalled  by  his  admiration,  and 
taking  the  hand  of  Edwin,  "  Receive  me,  brave  youth," 
said  he,  "  as  your  second  brother.  Sir  William  Wallace  is 
your  first ;  but  this  night  we  shall  fight  side  by  side  for  our 
fathers,  and  let  that  be  our  bond  of  kindred  !  " 

Edwin  pressed  Graham's  cheek  with  his  innocent  lips. 
"  Let  us  together  free  them,"  cried  he,  "  and  then  we  shall 
be  born  twins  in  happiness." 

1  This  William  Ruthven,  Baron  of  Ruthven  on  the  Sprey,  and  Lord 
of  the  Castle  of  Hunting-tower,  which  stands  on  the  Tay  two  miles  from 
Perth,  was  the  ancestor  of  the  Earls  of  Gowrie  and  of  the  renowned  Ruth- 
ven, Earl  of  Forth  and  Brentford,  who  so  greatly  signalized  himself  in 
the  armies  of  Gustavus  Adolphus.  William,  Lord  Ruthven,  who  with  his 
family  was  the  fast  friend  of  Wallace,  performed  services  for  Scotland  more 
numerous  than  the  disposition  of  these  volumes  affords  room  to  recount. 


2  54  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

"  So  be  it,"  cried  Graham,  "  and  Sir  William  Wallace 
shall  be  the  sponsor  of  that  hour." 

Wallace  smiled  on  them ;  and  moving  to  the  head  of  the 
vessel,  saw  not  only  that  they  drew  near  the  shore,  but  that 
the  beach  was  covered  with  armed  men.  To  be  sure 
whether  or  not  they  were  his  own,  he  drew  his  sword  and 
waved  it  in  the  air.  At  that  moment  a  hundred  falchions 
flashed  in  the  sunbeams,  and  the  shout  of  "  Wallace  !  " 
came  loudly  on  the  breeze. 

Graham  and  Edwin  started  on  their  feet ;  the  seamen 
plied  their  oars,  the  boat  dashed  into  the  breakers.  Wal- 
lace jumped  on  shore,  and  was  received  with  acclamations 
by  his  thronging  troops. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

THE   BARNS    OF   AYR. 

WALLACE  no  sooner  landed  than  he  commenced  his 
march.  Murray  came  up  with  him  on  the  banks  of 
the  Irwin  ;  and  as  Ayr  was  not  a  very  great  distance  from 
that  river,  at  two  hours  before  midnight  the  little  army  en- 
tered Laglane  wood,  where  they  halted  while  their  general 
proceeded  to  reconnoitre  the  town.  The  wind  swept  in 
gusts  through  the  trees,  and  seemed  by  its  dismal  yellings 
to  utter  warnings  of  the  dreadful  deeds  he  was  come  to 
perform.  Wallace  had  already  declared  his  plan  of  destruc- 
tion ;  and  Graham,  as  a  first  measure,  went  to  the  spot  he 
had  fixed  on  with  Macdougal  his  servant  as  a  place  of  ren- 
dezvous. He  returned  with  the  man,  who  informed  Wal- 
lace that  in  honor  of  the  sequestrated  lands  of  the  mur- 
dered chiefs  having  been  that  day  partitioned  by  De  Val- 
ence amongst  certain  Southron  lords,  a  grand  feast  was 
now  held  in  the  governor's  palace.  Under  the  very  roof 
where  they  had  shed  the  blood  of  the  trusting  Scots  they 
were  now  keeping  this  carousal. 

"  Then  is  our  time  to  strike  !  "  cried  Wallace.  And  or- 
dering detachments  of  his  men  to  take  possession  of  the 
avenues  to  the  town,  he  made  a  circuit  with  others,  to  come 


THE  BARNS  OF  AYR.  255 

in  front  of  the  castle-gates  by  a  path  that  was  less  fre- 
quented than  the  main  street.  The  darkness  being  so 
great  that  no  object  could  be  distinctly  seen,  they  had  not 
gone  far  before  Macdougal,  who  had  undertaken  to  be 
their  guide,  discovered  by  the  projection  of  a  hill  on  the 
right  that  he  had  lost  the  road. 

"  Our  swords  will  find  one,"  answered  Wallace.  "  Lead 
on." 

Uneasy  at  any  mistake  in  a  situation  where  so  much  was 
at  stake,  Graham  gladly  hailed  a  twinkling  light  which 
gleamed  from  what  he  supposed  the  window  of  a  distant 
cottage.  Kirkpatrick,  with  MacDougal,  offered  to  go  for- 
ward and  explore  the  way.  In  a  few  minutes  they  arrived 
at  a  thatched  building,  from  which,  to  their  surprise,  is- 
sued the  wailing  strains  of  the  coronach.  Kirkpatrick 
paused.  Its  melancholy  notes  were  sung  by  female  voices ; 
and  seeing  no  danger  in  applying  to  such  harmless  inhabi- 
tants to  learn  the  way  to  the  citadel,  he  proceeded  to  the 
door ;  and  intending  to  knock,  the  weight  of  his  mailed 
arm  burst  open  its  slender  latch,  and  discovered  two  poor 
women  in  an  inner  apartment,  wringing  their  hands  over  a 
shrouded  corse.  While  Kirkpatrick  entered,  his  friends 
came  up ;  and  Murray  and  Graham,  who  also  were  struck 
with  sounds  never  breathed  over  the  vulgar  dead,  looked 
in,  wondering  what  noble  Scot  could  be  the  subject  of 
lamentation  in  so  lowly  an  abode.  The  stopping  of  these 
two  chieftains  impeded  the  steps  of  Wallace,  who  was  press- 
ing forward  without  either  eye  or  ear  for  anything  but  the 
object  of  his  march.  Kirkpatrick  at  that  moment  appeared 
at  the  threshold,  and  without  a  word  put  forth  his  hand, 
and  seizing  the  arm  of  his  commander  pulled  him  into  the 
cottage.  Before  Wallace  had  time  to  demand  the  reason 
of  this,  he  saw  a  woman  nm  forward  with  a  light  in  her 
hand,  the  beams  of  which  falling  on  the  face  of  the  knight  of 
Ellerslie,  with  a  shriek  of  joy  she  rushed  towards  him  and 
threw  herself  upon  his  neck. 

Wallace  instantly  recognized  Elspa,  his  nurse,  the  faith- 
ful attendant  on  his  grandfather's  declining  years,  the 
happy  matron  who  had  decked  the  bridal  bed  of  his 
Marion;  and  with  an  anguish  of  recollections  that  almost 
unmanned  him,  he  returned  her  ^ectionate  embrace. 


256  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

"Here  he  lies!"  cried  the  old  woman,  drawing  him 
towards  the  rushy  bier ;  and  before  he  had  time  to  demand, 
"Who?"  she  pulled  down  the  shroud,  and  disclosed  the 
body  of  Sir  Ronald  Crawford. 

Wallace  gazed  on  it  with  a  look  of  such  dreadful  import 
that  Edwin,  whose  anxious  eyes  then  sought  his  counte- 
nance, trembled  with  a  nameless  horror.  "  Oh,"  thought 
he,  "to  what  is  this  noble  soul  reserved!  Is  he  doomed 
to  extirpate  the  enemies  of  Scotland,  that  every  ill  falls 
direct  upon  his  head  !  " 

"  Sad,  sad  bier  for  the  Lord  of  Loudon  ! "  cried  the 
old  woman ;  "  a  poor  wake  to  mourn  the  loss  of  him  who 
was  the  benefactor  of  all  the  country  round !  But  had  I 
not  brought  him  here,  the  salt  sea  must  have  been  his 
grave." 

Here  sobs  prevented  her  utterance ;  but  after  a  short 
pause,  with  many  vehement  lamentations  over  the  virtues 
of  the  dead,  and  imprecations  on  his  murderers,  Elspa 
related  that  as  soon  as  the  woful  tidings  were  brought  to 
Monktown  kirk,  and  brought  too  by  the  Southron  who  was 
to  take  it  in  possession,  slie  and  the  Scots  who  would  not 
swear  fidelity  to  the  new  lord  were  driven  from  the  house. 
She  hastened  to  the  bloody  theatre  of  the  massacre,  and 
there  beheld  the  bodies  of  the  murdered  chiefs  drawn  on 
sledges  to  the  seashore.  Elspa  knew  that  of  her  master  by 
a  scar  on  his  breast,  which  he  had  received  in  the  battle 
of  Largs.  When  she  saw  corse  after  corse  thrown  with  a 
careless  hand  into  the  waves,  and  that  a  man  approached 
to  consign  the  honored  chief  of  Loudon  to  the  same  un- 
hallowed burial,  she  threw  herself  frantically  on  the  body, 
and  so  moved  the  man's  compassion,  that,  taking  advantage 
of  the  time  when  his  comrades  were  out  of  sight,  he  per- 
mitted her  to  wrap  the  dead  Sir  Ronald  in  her  plaid,  and  so 
carry  him  away  between  her  sister  and  herself.  But  ere 
she  raised  her  sacred  burden,  he  directed  her  to  seek  the 
venerable  head  from  amongst  the  others  which  lay  mingled 
in  a  sack,  and  drawing  it  forth,  she  placed  it  beside  the 
body,  and  hastily  retired  with  both  to  the  hovel  where 
Wallace  had  found  her.  It  was  a  shepherd's  hut;  but  the 
desolation  of  the  times  having  long  ago  driven  away  its 
former  inhabitant,   she  had  hoped  that  in  so  lonely  an 


THE  BARNS  OF  AYR.  257 

obscurity  she  might  have  performed  a  chieftain's  rites  to 
the  remains  of  the  murdered  lord  of  the  very  lands  on 
which  she  wept  him.  These  over,  she  meant  he  should 
be  interred  in  secret  by  the  fathers  of  a  neighboring 
church  he  had  in  life  endowed.  With  these  intentions, 
she  and  her  sister  were  chanting  over  him  the  sad  dirge 
of  their  country  when  Sir  Roger  Kirkpatrick  burst  open 
their  door. 

"  Ah ! "  cried  Elspa,  as  she  closed  her  dismal  narrative, 
"  though  two  lonely  women  were  all  they  left  of  the  once 
numerous  household  of  Sir  Ronald  Crawford,  to  sigh  the 
last  lament  over  his  once  revered  body,  yet  in  that  sad 
midnight  hour  our  earthly  voices  were  not  alone ;  the  wake- 
ful spirits  of  his  daughters  hovered  in  the  air,  and  joined  the 
deep  coronach  ! " 

Wallace  sighed  heavily  as  he  looked  on  the  animated 
face  of  the  aged  mourner.  Attachment  to  the  venerable 
dead  seemed  to  have  inspired  her  with  thoughts  beyond 
her  station ;  but  the  heart  is  an  able  teacher,  and  he  saw 
that  true  affection  speaks  but  one  language. 

As  Elspa's  ardent  eyes  withdrew  from  their  heavenward 
gaze,  they  fell  upon  the  shrouded  face  of  her  master.  A 
napkin  concealed  the  wound  of  decapitation.  "  Chiefs," 
cried  she,  in  a  burst  of  recollection,  "  ye  have  not  seen  all 
the  cruelty  of  these  murderers  ! "  At  these  words  she 
suddenly  withdrew  the  linen,  and  lifting  up  the  pale  head, 
held  it  wofully  towards  Wallace.  "  Here,"  cried  she,  "  once 
more  kiss  these  lips  !  They  have  often  kissed  yours  when 
you  were  a  babe,  and  as  insensible  to  his  love  as  he  is 
now  to  your  sorrow." 

Wallace  received  the  head  in  his  arms ;  the  long  silver 
beard,  thick  with  gouts  of  blood,  hung  over  his  hands.  He 
fixed  his  eyes  on  it  intently  for  some  minutes.  An  awful 
silence  pervaded  the  room ;  every  eye  was  riveted  upon  him. 

Looking  round  on  his  friends,  with  a  countenance  whose 
deadly  hue  gave  a  sepulchral  fire  to  the  gloomy  denuncia- 
tion of  his  eyes,  "  Was  it  necessary,"  said  he,  "  to  turn  my 
heart  to  iron,  that  I  was  brought  to  see  this  sight  ? "  All 
the  tremendous  purpose  of  his  soul  was  read  in  his  face, 
while  he  laid  the  head  back  upon  the  bier.  His  lips  again 
moved,  but  none  heard  what  he  said,  as  he  rushed  from  the 
VOL.  I.  —  17 


258  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

hut,  and  with  rapid  strides  proceeded  in  profound  silence 
towards  the  palace. ^ 

Wallace  well  knew  that  no  honest  Scot  could  be  under 
that  roof.  The  building,  though  magnificent,  was  altogether 
a  structure  of  wood ;  to  fire  it,  then,  was  his  determination. 
To  destroy  all  at  once  in  the  theatre  of  their  cruelty,  to 
make  an  execution,  not  to  engage  in  a  warfare  of  man  to 
man,  was  his  resolution,  —  for  they  were  not  soldiers  he 
was  seeking,  but  assassins ;  and  to  pitch  his  brave  Scots  in 
the  open  field  against  such  unmanly  wretches  would  be  to 
dishonor  his  men,  and  to  give  criminals  a  chance  for  the 
lives  they  had  forfeited. 

All  being  quiet  in  the  few  streets  through  which  he  passed, 
and  having  set  strong  bodies  of  men  at  the  mouth  of  every 
sally-port  of  the  citadel,  Wallace  turned  at  once  upon  the 
guard  at  the  barbacan  gate,  and  slaying  them  before  they 
could  give  the  alarm,  he  and  his  chosen  troop  entered  the 
portal  and  made  directly  to  the  palace.  The  lights  which 
blazed  through  the  windows  of  the  banqueting  hall  showed 
him  to  the  spot ;  and  having  detached  Graham  and  Edwin 
to  storm  the  keep  where  their  fathers  were  confined,  he 
took  the  half-intoxicated  sentinels  at  the  palace  gates  by 
surprise,  and  striking  them  into  a  sleep  from  which  they 
would  wake  no  more,  he  fastened  the  doors  upon  the  assas- 
sins. His  men  surrounded  the  building  with  hurdles  filled 
with  combustibles,  which  they  had  prepared  according  to 
his  directions ;  and  when  all  was  ready,  Wallace,  with  the 
mighty  spirit  of  retribution  nerving  every  limb,  mounted  to 
the  roof,  and  tearing  off  the  shingles,  with  a  flaming  brand 
in  his  hand  showed  himself  to  the  affrighted  revellers  be- 
neath ;  and  as  he  threw  it  blazing  amongst  them,  he  cried 
aloud,  "  The  blood  of  the  murdered  calls  for  vengeance, 
and  it  comes  '  " 

At  that  instant  the  matches  were  put  to  the  fagots  which 
surrounded  the  building ;  and  the  party  within,  springing 
from  their  seats,  hastened  towards  the  doors.  All  were 
fastened  on  them  ;   and  retreating   into  the  midst  of  the 

1  The  parallel  scene  to  this  in  Blind  Harrie's  poem  is  yet  more 
horribly  described.  Its  painting  might  have  been  too  strong  for  a  work 
of  this  kind,  but  the  simple  and  pathetic  lamentations  of  the  nurse  in  the 
old  poem  are  not  to  be  equalled  by  any  copy  in  modern  prose. 


THE  BARXS  OF  AYR  259 

room,  they  fearfully  looked  towards  the  tremendous  figure 
above,  which,  like  a  supernatural  being,  seemed  indeed 
come  to  rain  fire  upon  their  guilty  heads.  Some  shook 
with  superstitious  dread;  and  others,  driven  to  atheistical 
despair,  with  horrible  execrations  strove  again  to  force  a 
passage  through  the  doors.  A  second  glance  told  De  Valence 
whose  was  the  hand  which  had  launched  the  thunderbolt 
at  his  feet;  and  turning  to  Sir  Richard  Arnulf,  he  cried  in 
a  voice  of  horror,  "  My  arch-enemy  is  there  !  " 

The  thick  smoke,  rising  from  within  and  without  the 
building,  now  obscured  Wallace's  terrific  form.  The  shouts 
of  the  Scots  as  the  fire  covered  its  walls,  and  the  streaming 
flames  licking  the  windows  and  pouring  into  every  opening 
of  the  building,  raised  such  a  terror  in  the  breasts  of  the 
wretches  within  that  with  the  most  horrible  cries  they  again 
and  again  flew  to  the  doors  to  escape.  Not  an  avenue 
appeared.  Almost  suffocated  with  smoke,  and  scorched 
by  the  blazing  rafters  which  fell  from  the  burning  roof, 
they  at  last  made  a  desperate  attempt  to  break  a  passage 
through  the  great  portal.  Arnulf  was  at  their  head ;  and 
sunk  to  abjectness  by  his  despair,  in  a  voice  which  terror 
rendered  piercing,  he  called  aloud  for  mercy.  The  words 
reached  the  ear  of  Sir  Roger  Kirkpatrick,  who  stood 
nearest  to  the  door.  In  a  voice  of  thunder  he  replied, 
"  That  ye  gave,  ye  shall  receive  !  Where  was  mercy  when 
our  fathers  and  our  brothers  fell  beneath  your  swords  ?  " 

Aymer  de  Valence  came  up  at  this  moment  with  a  wooden 
pillar,  which  he  and  the  strongest  men  in  the  company  had 
torn  from  under  the  gallery  that  surrounded  the  room ;  and 
with  all  their  strength  dashing  it  against  the  door,  they  at 
last  drove  it  from  its  bolts.  But  now  a  wall  of  men  opposed 
them  !  Desperate  at  the  sight,  and  with  a  burning  furnace 
in  their  rear,  it  was  not  the  might  of  man  that  could  prevent 
their  escape.  With  the  determination  of  despair  they  rushed 
forward,  and  the  foremost  rank  of  the  Scots  fell.  But  ere 
the  exulting  Southrons  could  press  into  the  open  space, 
Wallace  himself  had  closed  upon  them ;  and  Arnulf,  the 
merciless  Arnulf,  whose  voice  had  pronounced  the  sentence 
of  death  upon  Sir  Ronald  Crawford,  died  beneath  his 
hand. 

Wallace  was  not  aware  that  he  had  killed  the  governor 


26o  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

of  Ayr,  till  the  terror-struck  exclamations  of  his  enemies 
informed  him  that  the  ruthless  instigator  of  the  massacre 
was  slain.  This  event  was  welcome  news  to  the  Scots ; 
and  hoping  that  the  next  death  would  be  that  of  De  Valence, 
they  pressed  on  with  redoubled  energy. 

Aroused  by  so  extraordinary  a  noise,  and  alarmed  by  the 
flames  of  the  palace,  the  soldiers  of  the  garrison  hastened, 
half  armed,  to  the  spot.  But  their  presence  rather  added 
to  the  confusion  than  gave  assistance  to  the  besieged.  The 
men  were  without  leaders ;  and  not  daring  to  put  themselves 
in  action  for  fear  of  being  afterwards  punished,  in  the  case  of 
a  mischance,  for  having  presumed  to  move  without  their 
officers,  they  stood  dismayed  and  irresolute,  while  those 
very  officers,  who  had  been  all  at  the  banquet,  were  faUing 
in  heaps  under  the  swords  of  the  exterminating  Scots. 

The  men  who  guarded  the  prisoners,  having  their  com- 
manders with  them,  made  a  stout  resistance ;  and  one  of 
them,  stealing  off,  gathered  a  few  companies  of  the  scat- 
tered forces  of  the  garrison,  and  suddenly  taking  Graham 
in  flank  made  no  inconsiderable  havoc  amongst  that  part 
of  his  division.  Edwin  blew  the  signal  for  assistance. 
Wallace  heard  the  blast ;  and  seeing  the  day  was  won  at 
the  palace,  he  left  the  finishing  of  the  affair  to  Kirkpatrick 
and  Murray,  and  drawing  off  a  small  party  to  reinforce 
Graham,  in  his  turn  took  the  Southron  officer  by  surprise. 
The  enemy's  ranks  fell  around  him  like  corn  beneath  the 
sickle ;  and  grasping  a  huge  battering-ram  which  his  men 
had  found,  he  burst  open  the  door  of  the  keep.  Graham 
and  Edwin  rushed  in ;  and  Wallace  sounding  his  own  bugle 
with  the  notes  of  victory,  his  reserves,  whom  he  had  placed 
at  the  sally-ports,  entered  in  every  direction,  and  received 
the  flying  soldiers  of  De  Valence  upon  their  pikes. 

Dreadful  was  now  the  carnage ;  for  the  Southrons,  for- 
getting all  discipline,  fought  every  man  for  his  life;  and 
the  furious  Scots  driving  them  into  the  far-spreading  flames, 
what  escaped  the  sword  would  have  perished  in  the  fire, 
had  not  the  relenting  heart  of  Wallace  pleaded  for  bleeding 
humanity,  and  he  ordered  the  trumpet  to  sound  a  parley. 
He  was  obeyed  ;  and  standing  on  an  adjacent  mound,  in  an 
awful  voice  he  proclaimed  that  whoever  had  not  been 
accomplices  in  the  horrible  massacre  of  the  Scottish  chiefs, 


THE  BARNS  OF  A  YR.  26 1 

if  they  would  ground  their  arms,  and  take  an  oath  never 
again  to  serve  against  Scotland,  their  hves  should  be 
spared. 

Hundreds  of  swords  fell  to  the  ground;  and  their  late 
holders,  kneeling  at  his  feet,  took  the  oath  prescribed.  At 
the  head  of  those  who  surrendered  appeared  the  captain 
who  had  commanded  at  the  prison  ;  he  was  the  only  officer 
of  all  the  late  garrison  who  survived,  —  all  else  had  fallen 
in  the  conflict,  or  had  perished  in  the  flames.  When  he 
saw  that  not  one  of  his  late  numerous  companions  existed 
to  go  through  the  same  humiliating  ceremony,  with  an 
aghast  countenance  he  said  to  Wallace,  as  he  presented  his 
sword,  "  Then  I  must  believe  that  with  this  weapon  I  am 
surrendering  to  Sir  William  Wallace  the  possession  of  this 
castle  and  the  government  of  Ayr  ?  I  see  not  one  of  my 
late  commanders ;  all  must  be  slain,  —  and  for  me  to  hold 
out  longer  would  be  to  sacrifice  my  men,  not  to  redeem 
that  which  has  been  so  completely  wrested  from  us.  But 
I  serve  severe  exactors  ;  and  I  hope  that  your  testimony, 
my  conqueror,  will  assure  my  king  that  I  fought  as  became 
his  standard." 

Wallace  gave  him  a  gracious  answer;  and  committing 
him  to  the  generous  care  of  Murray,  he  turned  to  give 
orders  to  Ker  respecting  the  surrendered  and  the  slain. 

During  these  momentous  events,  Graham  had  deemed  it 
prudent,  that,  exhausted  by  anxiety  and  privations,  the 
noble  captives  should  not  come  forth  to  join  in  the  battle  ; 
and  not  until  the  sound  of  victory  echoed  through  the 
arches  of  their  dungeons,  v/ould  he  suffer  the  eager  Dundaff 
to  see  and  thank  his  deliverer. 

Meanwhile  the  young  Edwin  appeared  before  the  eyes 
of  his  father,  like  the  angel  who  opened  the  prison-gates  to 
Peter.  After  embracing  him  with  all  a  son's  fondness, 
which  for  a  moment  lost  the  repressing  idea  that  he  might 
have  offended  by  his  truancy ;  after  recounting  in  a  few 
hasty  sentences  the  events  which  had  brought  him  to  be  a 
companion  of  Sir  William  Wallace,  and  to  avenge  the  inju- 
ries of  Scotland  in  Ayr,  —  he  knocked  off  the  chains  of  his 
amazed  father.  Eager  to  perform  the  like  service  to  all 
who  had  suffered  in  the  like  manner,  accompanied  by  the 
happy  Ruthven,  who  gazed  with  delight  on  his  son  treading 


262  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

so  early  the  path  of  glory,  he  hastened  around  to  the  other 
dungeons,  and  gladly  proclaimed  to  the  astonished  inmates 
freedom  and  safety.  Having  rid  them  of  their  shackles,  he 
had  just  entered  with  his  noble  company  into  the  vaulted 
chamber  which  contained  Lord  Dundaff,  when  the  peaceful 
clarion  sounded. 

At   the    happy   tidings,    Graham    started    on    his   feet. 
"  Now,  my  father,  you  shall  see  the  bravest  of  men  ! " 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

THE   BARNS   OF    AYR   {continued). 

MORNING  was  spreading  in  pale  light  over  the 
heavens,  and  condensing  with  its  cold  breath  the 
lurid  smoke  which  still  ascended  in  volumes  from  the  burn- 
ing ruins,  when  Wallace,  turning  round  at  the  glad  voice  of 
Edwin,  beheld  the  released  nobles.  This  was  the  first  time 
he  had  ever  seen  the  lords  Dundaff  and  Ruthven  ;  but 
several  of  the  others  he  remembered,  having  met  them  at 
the  fatal  decision  of  the  crown.  While  he  was  welcoming 
to  his  friendship  the  men  to  whom  his  valor  had  given  free- 
dom, how  great  was  his  surprise  to  see  in  a  prisoner,  who 
now  appeared  between  Ker  and  a  soldier.  Sir  John  Mon- 
teith,  the  young  chieftain  whom  he  had  parted  with  a  few 
months  ago  at  Douglas,  and  from  whose  fatal  invitation  to 
that  place  he  might  date  the  ruin  of  his  dearest  happiness 
and  every  succeeding  catastrophe  ! 

"  We  found  Sir  John  Monteith  amongst  the  slain  before 
the  palace,"  said  Ker ;  "  he  of  the  whole  party  alone 
breathed.  I  knew  him  instantly.  How  he  came  there  I 
know  not ;  but  I  brought  him  hither,  to  explain  it  to 
yourself." 

Ker  withdrew  to  finish  the  interment  of  the  dead.  And 
Sir  John,  still  leaning  on  the  soldier,  grasped  Wallace's 
hand.  "  My  brave  friend,"  cried  he,  "to  owe  my  liberty  to 
you  is  a  twofold  pleasure ;  for,"  added  he,  in  a  lowered 
voice,  "  I  see  before  me  the  man  who  is  to  verify  the  words 


THE   BARNS   OF  AYR.  263 

of  Baliol,  and  be  not  only  the  guardian  but  the  possessor 
of  the  treasure  he  committed  to  our  care  !  " 

Wallace,  who  had  never  cast  a  thought  on  the  box  since 
he  knew  it  was  under  the  protection  of  Saint  Fillan,  shook 
his  head.  "  A  far  different  meed  do  I  seek,  my  friend  !  " 
said  he.  "  To  behold  these  happy  countenances  of  my 
liberated  countr)-men  is  greater  reward  to  me  than  would 
be  the  development  of  all  the  splendid  mysteries  which 
'  the  head  of  Baliol  could  devise." 

"  Ay  !  "  cried  Dundaff,  who  overheard  this  part  of  the 
conversation ;  "  we  invited  the  usurpation  of  a  tyrant  by 
the  docility  with  which  we  submitted  to  his  minion.  Had 
we  rejected  Baliol,  we  had  never  been  ridden  by  Edward. 
But  the  rowel  has  entered  all  our  sides ;  and  who  is  there 
amongst  us  that  will  not  lay  himself  and  liis  fortune  at  the 
command  of  him  who  plucks  away  the  tyrant's  heel  ?  " 

"  If  all  held  our  cause  in  the  light  that  you  do,"  returned 
Wallace,  "  the  blood  which  these  Southrons  have  sown 
would  rise  up  in  ten  thousand  legions  to  overwhelm  the 
murderers!  But  how,"  inquired  he,  turning  to  Monteith, 
"  did  you  happen  to  be  in  Ayr  at  this  period  ?  And  how, 
above  all,  amongst  the  slaughtered  Southrons  at  the 
palace  ?  " 

Sir  John  Monteith  readily  replied,  "  My  adverse  fate  ac- 
counts for  all."  He  then  proceeded  to  inform  Wallace  that 
on  the  very  night  in  which  they  had  parted  at  Douglas,  Sir 
Arthur  Heselrigge  was  told  the  story  of  the  box,  and  that 
accordingly  he  sent  to  have  Monteith  brought  prisoner  to 
Lanark.  He  lay  in  the  dungeons  of  the  citadel  at  the  very 
time  Wallace  entered  that  town  and  destroyed  the  gov- 
ernor. Though  the  Scots  did  not  pursue  the  advantage 
offered  by  the  transient  panic  in  which  this  retribution 
threw  their  enemies,  care  was  taken  by  the  English  lieu- 
tenant to  prevent  a  repetition  of  the  same  disaster;  and  in 
consequence  every  suspected  person  was  seized,  and  those 
already  in  confinement  were  loaded  with  double  chains. 
Monteith,  being  known  as  a  friend  of  Wallace,  was  sent 
under  a  strong  guard  towards  Stirling,  there  to  stand  his 
trial  before  Cressingham  and  the  Justiciary  Ormsby. 
"  But  by  a  lucky  chance,"  said  he,  "  I  made  my  escape 
while    my   guards    slept.      However,    I  was  soon  retaken 


264  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

by  another  party  and  conveyed  to  Ayr,  where  the  heu- 
tenant-governor,  Arnulf,  discovering  my  talents  for  music, 
compelled  me  to  sing  at  his  entertainments.  For  this  pur- 
pose, he  last  night  confined  me  in  the  banqueting  room  at 
the  palace;  and  thus,  when  the  flames  surrounded  that 
building,  I  found  myself  exposed  to  die  the  death  of  a 
traitor,  though  then  the  most  oppressed  of  all  the  Scots. 
Snatching  up  a  sword,  and  striving  to  join  my  brave  coun- 
trymen, the  Southrons  impeded  my  passage,  and  I  fell 
under  their  arms." 

Happy  to  have  rescued  his  old  acquaintance  from  further 
mortifications,  Sir  WiUiam  Wallace  committed  him  to 
Edwin  to  lead  into  the  citadel.  As  he  gave  these  direc- 
tions he  took  the  colors  of  Edward  from  the  ground,  where 
the  Southron  officer  had  laid  them,  and  giving  them  to  Sir 
Alexander  Scrymgeour,  ordered  him  to  fill  their  former 
station  on  the  citadel  with  the  standard  of  Scotland.  This 
action  he  considered  as  the  seal  of  each  victory,  —  as  the 
badge  which,  seen  from  afar,  showed  the  desolate  Scots 
where  to  find  a  protector,  and  from  what  ground  to  start 
when  courage  would  prompt  them  to  assert  their  rights. 

The  standard  was  no  sooner  raised  than  the  proud  clarion 
of  triumph  was  blown  from  every  warlike  instrument  in  the 
garrison ;  and  the  Southron  captain,  placing  himself  at  the 
head  of  his  disarmed  troops,  under  the  escort  of  Murray, 
marched  out  of  the  castle.  His  design  was  to  proceed 
immediately  to  Newcastle,  and  thence  embark  with  his 
men  to  join  their  king  in  Flanders.  Not  more  than  two 
hundred  followed  their  officer  in  this  expedition,  for  not 
more  were  English.  The  rest,  to  nearly  double  that  num- 
ber, being,  like  the  garrison  of  Dumbarton,  Irish  and 
Welsh,  were  glad  to  escape  enforced  servitude.  Some 
parted  off  in  divisions,  to  return  to  their  respective  coun- 
tries ;  and  a  few,  whose  energetic  spirits  preferred  a  life  of 
warfare  in  the  cause  of  a  country  struggling  for  freedom, 
before  returning  to  submit  to  the  oppressors  of  their  own, 
enlisted  under  the  banners  of  Wallace. 

Some  other  necessary  regulations  being  made,  he  dis- 
missed the  victorious  Scots  to  find  refreshment  in  the  well- 
stored  barracks  of  the  dispersed  Southrons,  and  retired 
himself  to  rejoin  his  friends  in  the  citadel. 


BERWICK  CASTLE.  26$ 


CHAPTER   XXX. 

BERWICK    CASTLE. 

IN  the  course  of  an  hour  Murray  returned  with  informa- 
tion that  he  had  seen  the  departing  Southrons  beyond 
the  barriers  of  the  town.  But  he  approached  not  Wallace 
alone ;  he  was  accompanied  by  Lord  Auckinleck,  the  son 
of  one  of  the  betrayed  barons  who  had  fallen  in  the  palace 
of  Ayr.  This  young  chieftain,  at  the  head  of  his  vassals, 
came  to  support  the  man  whose  dauntless  hand  had  thus 
satisfied  his  revenge;  and  when  he  met  Murray  at  the 
north  gate  of  the  town,  and  recognized  in  his  flying  banners 
a  friend  of  Scotland,  he  was  happy  to  make  himself  known 
to  an  ofBcer  of  Wallace,  and  to  be  conducted  to  that  chief. 

As  Lord  Andrew  and  his  new  colleague  made  the  range 
of  the  suburbs,  the  glad  progress  of  the  victor  Scots 
changed  the  whole  aspect  of  that  late  gloomy  city.  Doors 
and  windows,  so  lately  closed  in  deep  mourning  for  the 
sanguinary  deeds  done  in  the  palace,  now  opened,  teeming 
with  gay  inhabitants.  The  general  joy  penetrated  to  the 
most  remote  recesses.  Mothers  now  threw  their  fond  arms 
around  the  necks  of  the  children  whom  they  had  lately 
regarded  with  the  averted  eyes  of  despair ;  in  the  one  sex 
they  then  beheld  the  devoted  victims  of  perhaps  the  next 
requisition  for  blood,  and  in  the  other  the  hapless  prey  of 
passions  more  fell  than  the  horrid  rage  of  the  beast  of  the 
field.  But  now  all  was  secure  again.  These  terrific  tyrants 
were  driven  hence ;  and  the  happy  parent,  embracing  her 
children  as  if  restored  to  her  from  the  grave,  implored  a 
thousand  blessings  on  the  head  of  Wallace,  the  dispenser 
of  all  this  good. 

Sons  who  in  secret  had  lamented  the  treacherous  death 
of  their  fathers,  and  brothers  of  their  brothers,  now  opened 
their  gates  and  joined  the  valiant  troops  in  the  streets. 
Widowed  wives  and  fatherless  daughters  almost  forgot  they 
had  been  bereaved  of  their  natural  protectors,  when  they 
saw  Scotland  rescued  from  her  enemies,  and  her  armed 


266  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

sons  once  more  walking  in  the  broad  day,  masters  of  them- 
selves and  of  their  liberties. 

Thus,  then,  with  every  heart  rejoicing,  every  house  teem- 
ing with  numbers  to  swell  the  ranks  of  Wallace,  did  he, 
the  day  after  he  had  entered  Ayr,  see  all  arranged  for  its 
peaceful  establishment.  But  ere  he  bade  that  town  adieu 
in  which  he  had  been  educated,  and  where  almost  every 
man  remembered  his  boyish  years,  and  so  many  thronged 
around  him  with  recollection  of  former  days,  one  duty  de- 
manded his  stay,  —  to  pay  funeral  honors  to  the  remains  of 
his  beloved  grandfather. 

Accordingly  the  time  was  fixed,  and  with  every  solemnity 
due  to  his  virtues  and  his  rank  Sir  Ronald  Crawford  was 
buried  in  the  chapel  of  the  citadel.  It  was  not  a  scene  of 
mere  ceremonious  mourning.  As  he  had  been  the  father 
of  the  fatherless,  he  was  followed  to  the  grave  by  many  an 
orphan's  tears ;  and  as  he  had  been  the  protector  of  the 
distressed  in  every  degree,  a  procession  long  and  full  of 
lamentation  conducted  his  shrouded  corse  to  its  earthly 
rest.  The  mourning  families  of  the  chiefs  who  had  fallen 
in  the  same  bloody  theatre  with  himself  closed  the  sad 
retinue  ;  and  while  the  holy  rites  committed  his  body  to  the 
ground,  the  sacred  Mass  was  extended  to  those  who  had 
been  plunged  into  the  weltering  element. 

While  Wallace  confided  the  aged  Elspa  and  her  sister  to 
the  care  of  Sir  Reginald  Crawford,  to  whom  he  also  re- 
signed the  lands  of  his  grandfather,  "  Cousin,"  said  he, 
"  ycu  are  a  valiant  and  a  humane  man !  I  leave  you  to  be 
the  representative  of  your  venerable  uncle,  —  to  cherish 
these  poor  women  whom  he  loved,  to  be  the  protector  of 
the  people  and  the  defender  of  the  suburbs.  The  citadel 
is  under  the  command  of  the  Baron  of  Auckinleck,  who 
with  his  brave  followers  was  the  first  to  hail  the  burning  of 
the  accursed  Barns  of  Ayr." 

After  this  solemnity  and  these  dispositions,  Wallace 
called  a  review  of  his  troops,  and  found  that  he  could  leave 
five  hundred  men  at  Ayr  and  march  an  army  of  at  least  two 
thousand  out  of  it.  His  present  design  was  to  take  his 
course  to  Berwick  ;  and  by  seizing  every  castle  of  strength 
in  his  way,  form  a  chain  of  works  across  the  country  which 
would  not  only  bulwark  Scotland  against  any  further  in- 


BERWICK  CASTLE.  26/ 

roads  from  its  enemies,  but  render  tlie  subjugation  of  tlie 
interior  Southron  garrisons  more  certain  and  easy. 

On  tlie  third  morning  after  the  conflagration  of  the  pal- 
ace, Wallace  quitted  Ayr,  and  marching  over  its  far-stretch- 
ing hills,  manned  every  watch-tower  on  their  summits ;  for 
now,  whithersoever  he  moved,  he  found  his  victories  had 
preceded  him,  and  all,  from  hall  and  hovel,  turned  out  to 
greet  and  offer  him  their  services.  Thus  heralded  by  fame, 
the  panic-struck  Southron  governors  fled  at  the  distant  view 
of  his  standards.  The  flames  of  Ayr  seemed  to  menace 
them  all;  and  castle  and  fortalice,  from  Muir-kirk  to  the 
walls  of  Berwick,  opened  their  gates  before  him. 

Arrived  under  these  blood-stained  towers,  which  had  so 
often  been  the  objects  of  dispute  between  the  powers  of 
England  and  of  Scotland,  Wallace  prepared  for  their  im- 
mediate attack.  Berwick  being  a  valuable  fortress  to  the 
enemy,  not  only  as  a  key  to  the  invaded  kingdom  but  a 
point  whence  by  his  ships  he  commanded  the  whole  of  the 
eastern  coast  of  Scotland,  Wallace  expected  that  a  desper- 
ate stand  would  be  made  here  to  stop  the  progress  of  his 
arms.  But  being  aware  that  the  most  expeditious  mode  of 
warfare  was  the  best  adapted  to  promote  his  cause,  he  first 
took  the  town  by  assault,  and  having  driven  the  garrison 
into  the  citadel,  assailed  them  by  a  vigorous  siege. 

It  had  lasted  not  more  than  ten  days  when  Wallace  de- 
vised a  plan  to  obtain  possession  of  the  ships  which  com- 
manded the  harbor.  He  found  among  his  own  troops  many 
men  who  had  been  used  to  a  sea-faring  life.  These  he  dis- 
guised as  fugitive  Southrons,  and  sent  in  boats  to  the  ships 
which  lay  in  the  roads.  The  feint  took ;  and  by  these 
means  seizing  upon  the  vessels  nearest  to  the  town,  he 
manned  them  with  his  own  people,  and  going  out  with  them 
himself,  in  three  days  made  himself  master  of  every  ship 
on  the  coast. 

By  this  mancEuvre  the  situation  of  the  besieged  was  ren- 
dered so  hopeless  that  no  mode  of  escape  was  left  but  by 
desperate  sallies.  They  made  them,  but  without  other  effect 
than  weakening  their  strength  and  increasing  their  miseries. 
Wallace  was  aware  of  all  their  resolutions ;  for  knowing  what 
would  be  best  for  them  to  do  in  their  situation,  he  needed 
no  better  spy  over  their  actions  than  his  own  judgment. 


268  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

Foiled  in  every  attempt,  —  as  their  opponent,  guessing 
their  intentions,  was  prepared  at  every  point  to  meet  their 
different  essays,  —  and  losing  men  at  every  rencontre,  their 
governor  stood  without  resource.  Without  provisions,  with- 
out aid  of  any  kind  for  his  wounded  men,  and  hourly  an- 
noyed by  the  victorious  Scots,  who  continued  day  and  night 
to  throw  showers  of  arrows  and  other  missile  weapons  from 
the  towers  and  springalls  with  which  they  overtopped  the 
walls,  the  unhappy  Earl  of  Gloucester  was  ready  to  rush 
upon  death  to  avoid  the  disgrace  of  surrendering  the  for- 
tress. -Every  soul  in  the  garrison  was  reduced  to  similar 
despair.  Wallace  had  found  means  to  dam  up  the  spring 
which  supplied  the  citadel  with  water.  The  common  men, 
famished  with  hunger,  smarting  with  their  wounds,  and 
now  perishing  with  unextinguishable  thirst,  threw  them- 
selves at  the  feet  of  their  officers,  imploring  them  to  repre- 
sent to  the  governor  that  if  he  held  out  longer  he  must  de- 
fend the  place  alone,  for  they  could  not  exist  another  day 
under  their  present  sufferings. 

The  governor  now  repented  of  the  rashness  with  which 
he  had  thrown  himself  unprovisioned  into  the  citadel.  He 
now  saw  that  expectation  was  no  apology  for  want  of  pre- 
caution. When  his  first  division  had  been  overpowered  in 
the  assault  of  the  town,  his  evil  genius  suggested  that  it 
was  best  to  take  the  second  unbroken  into  the  citadel,  and 
there  await  the  arrival  of  a  reinforcement  by  sea.  But  he 
had  beheld  the  ships  which  defended  the  harbor  seized  by 
Wallace  before  his  eyes.  Hope  was  then  crushed,  and 
nothins:  but  death  or  dishonor  seemed  to  be  his  alternatives. 
Cut  to  the  soul  at  the  consequences  of  his  want  of  judg- 
ment, he  determined  to  retrieve  his  fame  by  washing  out 
that  error  with  his  blood.  To  fall  under  the  ruins  of  Ber- 
wick castle  was  his  resolution.  Such  was  the  state  of  his 
mind  when  the  officers  appeared  with  the  petition  of  his 
men.  In  proportion  as  they  felt  the  extremities  into  which 
they  were  driven,  the  offence  he  had  committed  glared  with 
tenfold  enormity  in  his  eyes ;  and  with  wild  despair  he  told 
them  they  might  do  as  they  would,  but  for  his  part,  the  mo- 
ment they  opened  the  gates  to  the  enemy,  that  moment  should 
be  the  last  of  his  life.  He,  that  was  the  son-in-law  of  King 
Edward,  would  never  yield  his  sword  to  a  Scottish  rebel. 


BERWICK  CASTLE.  269 

Terrified  at  these  threats  on  himself,  the  soldiers,  who 
loved  their  general,  declared  themselves  willing  to  die  with 
him,  and  as  a  last  effort  proposed  making  a  mine  under 
the  principal  tower  of  the  Scots,  and  by  setting  fire  to  it 
at  least  destroy  the  means  by  which  they  feared  their  ene- 
mies would  storm  the  citadel. 

As  Wallace  gave  his  orders  from  this  commanding  sta- 
tion, he  observed  the  besieged  passing  in  numbers  behind 
a  mound  in  a  direction  to  the  tower  where  he  stood.  He 
concluded  what  was  their  design  ;  and  ordering  a  counter- 
mine to  be  made,  what  he  anticipated  happened,  and  Mur- 
ray at  the  head  of  his  miners  encountered  those  of  the 
castle  at  the  very  moment  they  would  have  set  fire  to  the 
combustibles  which  were  to  consume  the  tower.  The 
struggle  was  violent  but  short,  for  the  impetuous  Scots 
drove  their  amazed  and  enfeebled  adversaries  through  the 
aperture  into  the  centre  of  the  citadel.  At  this  instant, 
Wallace  with  a  band  of  resolute  men  sprung  from  the  tower 
upon  the  walls ;  and  while  they  were  almost  deserted  by 
their  late  guardians,  who  had  quitted  them  to  assist  in  re- 
pelling the  foe  below,  he  leaped  into  the  midst  of  the  con- 
flict, and  the  battle  became  general.  It  was  decisive.  For 
beholding  the  undaunted  resolution  with  which  the  weak- 
ened and  dying  men  supported  the  cause  their  governor 
was  determined  to  defend,  Wallace  found  his  admiration 
and  his  pity  alike  excited ;  and  even  while  his  men  seemed 
to  have  ever\'  man's  life  in  his  hands, — when  one  instant 
more  would  make  him  the  undisputed  master  of  the  castle,  for 
not  a  Southron  would  then  breathe  to  dispute  it,  he  resolved 
to  stop  the  carnage.  At  the  moment  when  a  gallant  officer, 
who,  having  assaulted  him  with  the  vehemence  of  despair, 
now  lay  disarmed  and  under  him,— at  that  moment,  when 
the  discomfited  knight  exclaimed,  "  In  mercy  strike,  and 
redeem  the  honor  of  Ralph  de  Monthermer ! "  ^  Wallace 
raised  his  bugle  and  sounded  the  note  of  peace.  Every 
sword  was  arrested,  and  the  universal  clangor  of  battle  was 
lost  in  expecting  silence. 

"  Rise,  brave  earl,"  cried  Wallace  to  the  governor  ;  "  I 

1  Ralph  de  Monthermer  was  a  noble  kni<;ht  who  married  Jane  of  .\cre, 
the  daughter  of  King  Edward  tiie  First.  He  was  created  Earl  of  Glou- 
cester on  his  marriage  with  this  princess. 


270  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

revere  virtue  too  sincerely  to  take  an  unworthy  advantage 
of  my  fortune.  The  valor  of  this  garrison  commands  my 
respect ;  and  as  a  proof  of  my  sincerity,  I  grant  to  it  what 
I  have  never  yet  done  to  any,  —  that  yourself  and  these 
dauntless  men  march  out  with  the  honors  of  war,  and  with- 
out any  bonds  on  your  future  conduct  towards  us.  We 
leave  it  to  your  own  hearts  to  decide  whether  you  will  ever 
again  be  made  instruments  to  enchain  a  free  and  brave 
people." 

While  he  was  speaking,  De  Monthermer  leaned  gloomily 
on  the  sword  he  had  returned  to  him,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on 
his  men.  They  answered  his  glance  with  looks  that  said 
they  understood  him  ;  and  passing  a  few  words  in  whispers 
to  one  another,  one  at  last  spoke  aloud  :  "  Decide  for  us, 
earl.  We  are  as  ready  to  die  as  to  live,  so  that  we  may  be 
in  neither  divided  from  you." 

At  this  generous  declaration  the  proud  despair  of  De 
Monthermer  gave  way  to  nobler  feelings ;  and  while  a  big 
tear  stood  in  each  eye,  he  turned  to  Wallace,  and  stretch- 
ing out  his  hand  to  him,  "  Noble  Scot,"  said  he,  "  your 
unexampled  generosity  and  the  invincible  fidelity  of  these 
heroic  men  have  compelled  me  to  accept  the  life  I  had  re- 
solved to  lose  under  these  walls  rather  than  resign  them. 
But  virtue  is  resistless  ;  and  to  it  do  I  surrender  that  pride 
of  soul  which  made  existence  insufferable  under  the  con- 
sciousness of  having  erred.  When  I  became  the  husband 
of  King  Edward's  daughter,  I  believed  myself  pledged  to 
victories  or  to  death.  But  there  is  a  conquest,  and  I  feel 
it,  greater  than  over  hosts  in  the  field  ;  and  here  taught  to 
make  it,  the  husband  of  the  Princess  of  England,  the  proud 
Earl  of  Gloucester,  consents  to  live  to  be  a  monument  of 
Scottish  nobleness,  and  of  the  inflexible  fidelity  of  English 
soldiers." 

"  You  live,  illustrious  and  virtuous  Englishman,"  returned 
Wallace,  "  to  redeem  that  honor  of  which  the  rapacious 
sons  of  England  had  robbed  their  country.  Go  forth, 
therefore,  as  my  conqueror ;  for  you  have,  in  this  spot,  ex- 
tinguished that  burning  antipathy  with  which  the  outraged 
heart  of  William.  Wallace  had  vowed  to  extirpate  every 
Southron  from  off  this  ravaged  land.  Honor,  brave  earl, 
makes  all  men  brethren ;  and  as  a  brother  I  open  these 


STIRLING.  271 

gates  for  you  to  repass  into  your  country.  When  there, 
if  you  ever  remember  William  Wallace,  let  it  be  as  a  man 
who  fights  not  for  conquest  nor  renown,  but  to  restore 
Scotland  to  her  rights,  and  then  to  resign  his  sword  in 
peace." 

"  I  shall  remember  you,  Sir  William  Wallace  !  "  returned 
De  Monthermer;  "and  as  a  pledge  of  it,  you  shall  never 
see  me  again  in  this  country  till  I  come  an  ambassador  of 
that  peace  for  which  you  fight.  But  meanwhile,  in  the  mo- 
ment of  hot  contention  for  the  rights  which  you  believe 
wrested  from  you,  do  you  remember  that  they  have  not  been 
so  much  the  spoil  of  my  royal  father's  ambition  as  of  the 
traffic  of  your  own  venal  nobles.  Had  I  not  believed  that 
Scotland  was  unworthy  of  freedom,  I  should  never  have 
appeared  upon  her  borders ;  but  now  that  I  see  she  has 
brave  hearts  within  her,  who  not  only  resist  oppression 
but  know  how  to  wield  power,  I  detest  the  zeal  with  which 
I  volunteered  to  rivet  her  chains.  And  I  repeat  that  never 
again  shall  my  hostile  foot  impress  this  land." 

These  sentiments  were  answered  in  the  same  spirit  by 
his  soldiers;  and  the  Scots,  following  the  example  of  their 
leader,  treated  them  with  every  kindness.  After  dispensing 
amongst  them  provisions,  and  appointing  means  to  convey 
the  wounded  in  comfort,  Wallace  bade  a  cordial  farewell  to 
the  Earl  of  Gloucester ;  and  his  men  conducted  their  recon- 
ciled enemies  over  the  Tweed.  There  they  parted.  The 
English  bent  their  course  towards  London,  and  the  Scots 
returned  to  their  victorious  general. 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 

STIRLING. 


THE  happy  effects  of  these  rapid  conquests  were  soon 
apparent.  The  fall  of  Berwick  excited  such  a  confi- 
dence in  the  minds  of  the  neighboring  chieftains  that  every 
hour  brought  fresh  recruits  to  Wallace.  Ever}^  mouth  was 
full  of  the  praises  of  the  young  conqueror,  every  eye  was 


272  THE  SCOTTISH   CHIEFS. 

eager  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  his  person ;  and  while  the  men 
were  emulous  to  share  his  glory,  the  women  in  their  secret 
bowers  put  up  prayers  for  the  preservation  of  one  so  hand- 
some and  so  brave. 

Amongst  the  many  of  every  rank  and  age  who  hastened 
to  pay  their  respects  to  the  deliverer  of  Berwick  was  Sir 
Richard  Maitland  of  Thirlestane,  —  a  veteran  of  such 
celebrity  that  he  was  known  by  the  title  of  the  stalwart 
knight  of  Lauderdale.^ 

Wallace  was  no  sooner  told  of  the  approach  of  the 
venerable  knight  of  Thirlestane,  than  he  set  forth  to  bid 
him  welcome.  At  sight  of  the  champion  of  Scotland,  Sir 
Richard  threw  himself  off  his  horse  with  a  military 
grace  that  would  have  become  even  youthful  years,  and 
hastening  towards  Wallace,  clasped  him  in  his  arms. 

"  Let  me  look  on  thee  !  "  cried  the  old  knight ;  "  let  me 
feast  my  eyes  on  the  brave  Scot  who  again  raises  this  hoary 
head,  which  has  so  long  bent  in  shame  for  its  dishonored 
country  !  "  As  he  spoke  he  viewed  Wallace  from  head  to 
foot.  "  I  knew  Sir  Ronald  Crawford  and  thy  valiant 
father,"  continued  he.  "  Oh,  had  they  lived  to  see  this  day  ! 
But  the  base  murder  of  the  one  thou  hast  nobly  avenged  ; 
and  the  honorable  grave  of  the  other  on  Loudon  hill  ^  thou 
wilt  cover  with  the  monument  of  thine  own  glories.  Low 
are  laid  my  own  children  in  this  land  of  strife  ;  but  in  thee 
I  see  a  son  of  Scotland  that  is  to  dry  all  our  tears." 

He  embraced  Wallace  again  and  again.  And  as  the 
venerable  chieftain's  overflowing  heart  rendered  him  gar- 
rulous, he  expatiated  on  the  energy  with  which  the  young 
victor  had  pursued  his  conquests,  and  paralleled  them  with 
the  brilliant  actions  he  had  seen  in  his  youth.  While  he 
thus  discoursed,  Wallace  drew  him  towards  the  castle,  and 
there  presented  to  him  the  two  nephews  of  the  Earl  of  Mar. 

1  Sir  Richard  Maitland,  of  tlie  castle  of  Thirlestane  on  the  Leeder, 
is  noted  in  Scottish  tradition  for  his  bravery.  His  valiant  defence  of  his 
castle  against  the  English  in  his  extreme  old  age  is  still  the  subject  of 
enthusiasm  amongst  the  people  of  Lauderdale.  He  was  usually  called 
the  stalwart  auld  knight  of  Lauderdale,  meaning  the  brave  old  knight, 
etc.  He  had  three  sons,  but  only  one  survived  him,  who  from  that 
circumstance  was  surnamed  biirdalaiie,  which  signifies  "solitary." 

^  Sir  Malcolm  Wallace,  the  father  of  Sir  William  Wallace,  was  killed 
in  the  year  1295,  on  Loudon  hill,  in  a  battle  with  the  English. 


STIRLING.  273 

The  old  knight  paid  some  warm  comphments  to  Edwin 
on  his  early  success  in  the  career  of  glory ;  and  then  turn- 
ing to  Murray,  "  Ay,"  said  he,  "it  is  joy  to  me  to  see  the 
valiant  house  of  Bothwell  in  the  third  generation.  Thy 
grandfather  and  myself  were  boys  together  at  the  corona- 
tion of  Alexander  the  Second,  and  that  is  eighty  years  ago. 
Since  then,  what  have  I  not  seen  !  —  the  death  of  two  noble 
Scottish  kings,  our  blooming  princes  ravished  from  us  by 
untimely  fates,  the  throne  sold  to  a  coward  and  at  last 
seized  by  a  foreign  power !  And  in  my  own  person  I  have 
been  the  father  of  as  brave  and  beauteous  a  family  as  ever 
blessed  a  parent's  eye ;  but  they  are  all  torn  from  me.  Two 
of  my  sons  sleep  on  the  plain  of  Dunbar ;  my  third,  my 
dauntless  William,  since  that  fatal  day,  has  been  kept  a 
prisoner  in  England.  And  my  daughters,  the  tender 
blossoms  of  my  aged  years,  they  grew  around  me  the 
fairest  lilies  of  the  land  :  but  they  too  are  passed  away. 
The  one,  scorning  the  mere  charms  of  youth,  and  preferring 
a  union  with  a  soul  that  had  long  conversed  with  superior 
regions,  loved  the  sage  of  Ercildown  ;  but  my  friend  lost 
this  rose  of  his  bosom,  and  I  the  child  of  my  heart,  ere  she 
had  been  a  year  his  wife.  Then  was  my  last  and  only 
daughter  married  to  the  Lord  Mar ;  and  in  giving  birth  to 
my  dear  Isabella,  she  too  died.  Ah,  my  good  young  knight, 
were  it  not  for  that  sweet  child,  the  living  image  of  her 
mother,  who  in  the  very  spring  of  youth  was  cropped  and 
fell,  I  should  be  alone,  and  my  hoary  head  would  descend 
to  the  grave  unwept,  unregretted  !  " 

The  joy  of  the  old  man  having  recalled  such  melancholy 
remembrances,  he  wept  upon  the  shoulder  of  Edwin,  who 
had  drawn  so  near  that  the  story  which  was  begun  to 
Murray  was  ended  to  him.  To  give  the  mournilig  father 
time  to  recover  himself,  Wallace  was  moving  towards  the 
lords  in  an  opposite  quarter  of  the  hall,  when  he  was  inter- 
rupted by  Ker,  who  brought  information  that  a  youth  had 
just  arrived  in  breathless  haste  from  Stirling,  with  a  sealed 
packet  which  he  would  not  deliver  into  any  hands  but  those 
of  Sir  William  Wallace.  Wallace  requested  his  friends  to 
show  every  attention  to  the  Lord  of  Thirlestane,  and  with- 
drew to  meet  the  messenger. 

On  his  entering  the  anteroom  the  youth  sprang  forward; 
VOL.  I.  —  18 


2/4  "^^^   SCOTTISH   CHIEFS. 

but  suddenly  checking  himself,  he  stood,  as  if  irresolute 
what  to  say. 

"This  is  Sir  William  Wallace,  young  man,"  said  Ker; 
"  deliver  your  embassy." 

At  these  words  the  youth  pulled  a  packet  from  his  bosom, 
and  putting  it  into  the  chief's  hand  retired  in  confusion. 
Wallace  gave  orders  to  Ker  to  take  care  of  him,  and  then 
turned  to  inspect  the  contents  of  the  packet.  He  wondered 
from  whom  it  could  come,  as  he  knew  no  Scot  in  Stiriing 
who  would  dare  to  write  to  him  while  it  was  possessed  by 
the  enemy.  But  not  losing  a  moment  in  conjecture,  he 
broke  the  seal. 

How  was  he  startled  at  the  first  words !  And  how  was 
every  energy  of  his  heart  roused  to  redoubled  action  when 
he  turned  to  the  signature  !  The  first  words  in  the  letter 
were  these  :  "  A  daughter  trembling  for  the  life  of  her 
father  presumes  to  address  Sir  William  Wallace."  The 
signature  was  "  Helen  Mar."     He  began  the  letter  again  :  — 

A  daughter  trembling  for  the  life  of  her  father  presumes  to 
address  Sir  William  Wallace.  You  have  been  his  deliverer 
from  the  sword,  from  chains,  and  from  the  waves.  Refuse  not 
again  to  save  him,  to  whom  you  have  so  often  given  life;  and 
hasten,  brave  Wallace,  to  preserve  the  Earl  of  Mar  from  the 
scaffold. 

A  cruel  deception  brought  him  from  the  Isle  of  Bute,  where 
you  imagined  you  had  left  him  ni  security.  Lord  Aymer  de 
Valence,  escaping  a  second  time  from  your  sword,  fled  under 
covert  of  the  night  from  Ayr  to  Stirling.  Cressingham,  the  ra- 
pacious robber  of  all  our  castles,  found  in  him  an  apt  coadjutor. 
They  concerted  how  to  avenge  the  late  disgraces  of  Earl  de 
Valence;  and  Cressingham,  eager  to  enrich  himself,  while  he 
flattered  the  resentments  of  his  commander,  suggested  that  you. 
Sir  Wiliiam  Wallace,  our  deliverer  and  their  scourge,  would 
most  easily  be  made  to  feel  through  the  bosoms  of  your  friends. 
They  therefore  determined,  by  a  mock  trial,  to  condemn  my 
father  to  death,  and  thus,  while  they  distress  you,  put  themselves 
in  possession  of  his  lands  and  wealth  with  the  semblance  of 
justice. 

The  substance  of  this  most  unrighteous  debate  was  communi- 
cated to  me  by  De  Valence  himself.  He  thought  to  excuse  his 
part  in  the  affair  by  proving  to  me  how  insensible  he  is  to  the 
principles  which  move  a  patriot  and  a  man  of  honor. 


STIRLING.  275 

Having  learned  from  some  too  well-informed  spy  that  Lord 
Mar  had  retired  in  peaceful  obscurity  to  Bute,  these  arch-enemies 
of  our  country  sent  a  body  of  men,  disguised  as  Scots,  to  Gou- 
rock.  There  they  stopped,  and  despatched  a  messenger  into  the 
island  to  inform  Lord  Mar  that  Sir  William  Wallace  was  wait- 
ing to  converse  with  him  on  the  banks  of  the  frith.  My  noble 
father,  unsuspicious  of  treachery,  and  thinking  he  was  going  to 
meet  the  friend  in  whom  he  gloried,  hurried  to  obey  the  sum- 
mons. Lady  Mar  accompanied  him,  and  so  both  fell  into  the 
snare. 

He  was  brought  a  prisoner  to  Stirling,  where  another  afflic- 
tion awaited  him, —  he  was  to  see  his  daughter  and  sister  in 
captivity. 

After  I  had  been  betrayed  from  St.  Fillan's  monastery  by 
the  falsehoods  of  one  Scottish  knight  and  rescued  from  his  power 
by  the  gallantry  of  another,  I  sought  the  protection  of  my  aunt, 
Lady  Ruthven,  who  then  dwelt  at  Alloa,  on  the  banks  of  the 
Forth.  Her  husband  had  been  invited  to  Ayr  by  some  treach- 
erous requisition  of  the  governor,  Arnulf,  and  with  many  other 
lords  was  thrown  into  prison.  Report  says,  bravest  of  men! 
that  you  have  given  freedom  to  my  betrayed  uncle. 

The  moment  Lord  Ruthven's  person  was  secured,  his  estates 
were  seized;  and  my  aunt  and  myself  being  found  at  Alloa,  we 
were  carried  prisoners  to  this  city.  Alas,  we  had  no  valiant  arm 
to  preserve  us  from  our  enemies  I  Lady  Ruthven's  first-born 
son  was  slain  in  the  fatal  day  of  Dunbar ;  and  in  terror  of  the 
like  fate,  she  has  placed  her  eldest  surviving  boy  in  a  convent. 

Some  days  after  our  arrival  my  dear  father  was  brought  to 
Stirling.  Though  a  captive  in  the  town,  I  was  not  then  confined 
to  any  closer  durance  than  the  walls.  While  he  was  yet  passing 
through  the  streets,  rumor  told  my  aunt  that  the  Scottish  lord 
then  leading  to  prison  was  her  beloved  brother.  She  flew  to  me 
in  an  agony,  to  tell  me  the  dreadful  tidings.  I  heard  no  more, 
saw  no  more,  till  having  rushed  into  the  streets,  and  bursting 
through  every  obstacle  of  crowd  and  soldiers,  I  found  myself 
clasped  in  my  father's  arms,  in  his  shackled  arms !  What  a  mo- 
ment was  that !  Where  was  Sir  William  Wallace  in  that  hour  ? 
Where  the  brave  unknown  knight  who  had  sworn  to  me  to  die 
in  my  father's  defence  ?  Both  were  absent,  and  he  was  in 
chains. 

My  grief  and  distraction  baffled  the  attempts  of  the  guards  to 
part  us ;  and  what  became  of  me  I  know  not,  till  I  found  myself 
lying  on  a  couch,  attended  by  many  women,  and  supported  by 
my  aunt.  When  I  had  recovered  to  lamentation  and  to  tears, 
my  aunt  told  me  I  wa.s  in  the  apartments  of  the  deputy  warden. 


276  THE   SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

He,  with  Cressingham,  having  gon,e  out  to  meet  the  man  they 
had  so  basely  drawn  into  their  toils,  De  Valence  himself  saw  the 
struggles  of  paternal  affection  contending  against  the  men  who 
would  have  torn  a  senseless  daughter  from  his  arms ;  and  yet, 
merciless  man  1  he  separated  us,  and  sent  me,  with  my  aunt,  a 
prisoner  to  his  house. 

The  next  day  a  packet  was  put  into  my  aunt's  hands,  containing 
a  few  precious  lines  from  my  father  to  me,  and  a  letter  from  the 
countess  to  Lady  Ruthven,  telling  her  of  all  your  goodness  to 
lier  and  to  my  father,  and  at  last  narrating  the  cruel  manner  in 
which  they  had  been  ravished  from  the  asylum  in  which  you 
had  placed  them.  She  then  said  that  could  she  find  means  of 
apprising  you  of  the  danger  in  which  she  and  her  husband 
were  now  involved,  she  was  sure  you  would  fly  to  their  rescue. 
Whether  she  have  ever  found  these  means  I  know  not,  for  all 
communication  between  us  was  immediately  rendered  impracti- 
cable. The  messenger  that  brought  my  aunt  the  packet  was  a 
good  Southron,  who  had  been  won  by  Lady  Mar's  entreaties. 
But  on  his  quitting  our  apartments  he  was  seized  by  a  servant  of 
De  Valence,  and  the  same  day  put  publicly  to  death,  to  intimi- 
date all  others  from  the  like  compassion  on  the  sufferings  of 
unhappy  Scotland.  Oh,  Sir  William  Wallace  !  will  not  your 
sword  at  last  reach  these  men  of  blood  ? 

But  to  return.  Earl  de  Valence  compelled  my  aunt  to  yield 
the  packet  to  him.  We  had  already  read  it,  therefore  did  not 
regret  it  on  that  head,  but  feared  the  information  it  might  give 
relative  to  you.  In  consequence  of  this  circumstance  I  was  made 
a  close  prisoner.  But  captivity  could  have  no  terrors  for  me, 
did  it  not  divide  me  from  my  father  ;  and,  grief  on  grief !  —  what 
words  have  I  to  write  it  ?  —  they  have  condemned  him  to  die  ! 
That  fatal  letter  of  my  stepmother's  was  brought  out  against  him  ; 
and  as  your  adherent,  Sir  William  Wallace,  they  have  sentenced 
him  to  lose  his  head. 

I  have  knelt  to  Earl  de  Valence,  I  have  implored  my  father's 
life  at  his  hands,  but  to  no  purpose.  He  tells  me  tiiat  Cressing- 
ham at  his  side,  and  Ormsby  by  letters  from  Scone,  declare  it 
necessary  that  an  execution  of  consequence  must  be  made  to 
appall  the  discontented  Scots ;  and  that  as  no  lord  is  more  es- 
teemed in  Scotland  than  the  Earl  of  Mar,  /le  mnst  die  ! 

Hasten  then,  my  father's  preserver  and  friend !  hasten  to  save 
him !  Oh,  fly,  for  the  sake  of  the  country  he  loves,  for  the  sake 
of  the  hapless  beings  dependent  on  his  protection  1  I  shall  be 
on  my  knees  till  I  hear  your  trumpet  before  the  walls,  for  in  you 

and  heaven  now  rest  all  the  hopes  of 

Helen  Mar. 


STIRLING.  277 

A  cold  dew  stood  on  the  limbs  of  Wallace  as  he  closed 
the  letter.  It  might  be  too  late  !  The  sentence  was  passed 
on  the  earl,  and  his  executioners  were  prompt  as  cruel,  — 
the  axe  might  already  have  fallen ! 

He  called  to  Ker  to  have  the  messenger  brought  in.  He 
entered.  Wallace  inquired  how  long  he  had  been  from 
Stirling.  "  Only  thirty-four  hours,"  replied  the  youth,  add- 
ing that  he  had  travelled  night  and  day,  for  fear  the  news 
of  the  risings  in  Annandale  and  the  taking  of  Berwick 
should  precipitate  the  earl's  death. 

"  I  accompany  you  this  instant,"  cried  Wallace.  "  Ker, 
see  that  the  troops  get  under  arms."  As  he  spoke,  he  turned 
into  the  room  where  he  had  left  the  knight  of  Thirlestane. 

"  Sir  Richard  Maitland,"  said  he,  willing  to  avoid  excit- 
ing his  alarm,  "  there  is  more  work  for  us  at  Stirling. 
Lord  Aymer  de  Valence  has  again  escaped  the  death  we 
thought  had  overtaken  him,  and  is  now  in  that  citadel.  I 
have  just  received  a  summons  thither,  which  I  must  obey." 
At  these  words  Sir  Roger  Kirkpatrick  gave  a  shout,  and 
rushed  from  the  apartment.  Wallace  looked  after  him  for 
a  moment,  and  continued,  "  Follow  us  with  your  prayers, 
Sir  Richard;  and  I  shall  not  despair  of  sending  blessed 
tidings  to  the  banks  of  the  Leeder." 

"  What  has  happened  ? "  inquired  Murray,  who  saw  that 
something  more  than  the  escape  of  De  Valence  had  been 
imparted  to  his  general. 

"  We  must  spare  this  good  old  man,"  returned  Wallace, 
"  and  have  him  conducted  to  his  home  before  I  declare  it 
publicly ;  but  the  Earl  of  Mar  is  again  a  prisoner,  and  in 
Stirling." 

Murray,  who  instantly  comprehended  his  uncle's  danger, 
speeded  the  departure  of  Sir  Richard.  As  Wallace  held 
his  stirrup,  the  chief  laid  his  hand  on  his  head  and  blessed 
him :  "  The  prophet  of  Ercildown  is  too  ill  to  bring  his 
benediction  himself,  but  I  breathe  it  over  this  heroic  brow  !  " 
The  bridle  being  in  the  hand  of  Lord  Andrew,  he  led  the 
horse  out  of  the  eastern  gate  of  the  town ;  and  there  taking 
leave  of  the  veteran  knight,  turned  on  his  way,  and  soon 
rejoined  Wallace  in  the  midst  of  his  chieftains. 

He  had  informed  them  of  the  Earl  of  Mar's  danger,  and 
of  the  policy  as  well  as  justice  of  rescuing  so  powerful  and 


2/8  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

patriotic  a  nobleman  from  the  threatened  death.  Lord 
Ruthven  needed  no  arguments  to  precipitate  him  to  the 
rescue  of  his  brother  and  his  wife,  and  the  anxieties  of  the 
affectionate  Edwin  were  all  awake  when  he  knew  that  his 
mother  was  a  prisoner. 

Lord  Andrew  smiled  proudly  when  he  returned  his  cous- 
in's letter  to  Wallace :  "  We  shall  have  the  rogue  on  the 
nail,"  said  he ;  "  my  uncle's  brave  head  is  not  ordained  to 
fall  by  the  stroke  of  such  a  coward  !  " 

"  So  I  believe,"  replied  Wallace,  and  then  turning  to 
Lord  Dundaff,  "  My  lord,"  said  he,  "  I  leave  you  governor 
of  Berwick." 

The  veteran  warrior  grasped  Wallace's  hand.  "  To  be 
your  representative  in  this  fortress  is  the  proudest  station 
this  war-worn  frame  hath  ever  filled.  My  son  must  be  my 
representative  with  you  in  the  field."  He  waved  Sir  John 
Graham  towards  him.  The  young  knight  advanced ;  and 
Lord  Dundaff,  placing  his  son's  hands  upon  his  shield, 
continued,  "  Swear  that  as  this  defends  the  body,  you  will 
ever  strive  to  cover  Scotland  from  her  enemies,  and  that 
from  this  hour  you  will  be  the  faithful  friend  and  follower 
of  Sir  William  Wallace  !  " 

"  I  swear,"  returned  Graham,  kissing  the  shield.^ 

Wallace  pressed  his  hand :  "  I  have  brothers  around  me, 
rather  than  what  the  world  calls  friends !  And  with  such 
valor,  such  fidelity  to  aid  me,  can  I  be  otherwise  than  a 
victor  ?  " 

Edwin,  who  stood  near  at  this  rite  of  generous  enthu- 
siasm, softly  whispered  to  Wallace  as  he  turned  towards 
his  troops :  "  But  amongst  all  these  brothers,  cease  not  to 
remember  that  Edwin  was  your  first.  Ah,  my  beloved 
general,  what  Jonathan  was  to  David  I  would  be  to 
thee ! " 

Wallace  looked  on  him  with  penetrating  tenderness ;  his 
heart  was  suddenly  wrung  by  a  recollection  which  the  words 
of  Edwin  had  recalled.  "  liut  thy  love,  Edwin,  passes  not 
the  love  of  woman  !  " 

"  But  it  equals  it,"  replied  the  youth ;  "  what  has  been 

1  This  circumstance  is  recorded  of  Sir  John  Graham  and  his  noble 
father,  who  was  David  Graham,  Lord  of  Dundaff  and  Kincardine,  and  a 
descendant  of  the  renowned  Graham  from  whom  the  dyke  is  named. 


STIRLING. 


279 


done  for  thee,  I  would  do.     Only  love  me  as  David   did 
Jonathan,  and  I  shall  be  the  happiest  of  the  happy." 

"Be  happy  then,  dear  boy!"  answered  Wallace;  "for 
all  that  ever  beat  in  human  breast  for  friend  or  brother 
lives  in  my  heart  for  thee." 

At  that  moment  Sir  John  Graham  rejoined  them;  and 
some  other  captains  coming  up,  Wallace  made  the  proper 
military  dispositions,  and  every  man  took  his  station  at  the 
head  of  his  division. 

Until  the  men  had  marched  far  beyond  the  chance  of 
rumors  reaching  Thirlestane,  they  were  not  informed  of  the 
Earl  of  Mar's  danger.  They  conceived  that  their  present 
errand  was  the  recapture  of  De  Valence.  "  But  at  a  proper 
moment,"  said  Wallace,  "  they  shall  know  the  whole  truth  ; 
for,"  added  he,  "  as  it  is  a  law  of  equity  that  what  concerns 
all  should  be  approved  by  all,  and  that  common  dangers 
should  be  repelled  by  united  efforts,  the  people  who  follow 
our  standards  not  as  hirelings  but  with  willing  spirits  ought 
to  know  our  reasons  for  requiring  their  services." 

"  They  who  follow  you,"  said  Graham,  "  have  too  much 
confidence  in  their  leader  to  require  any  reasons  for  his 
movements." 

"  It  is  to  place  that  confidence  on  a  sure  foundation,  my 
brave  friend,"  returned  Wallace,  "  that  I  explain  what  there 
is  no  just  reason  to  conceal.  Should  policy  ever  compel 
me  to  strike  a  blow  without  previously  telling  my  agents 
wherefore,  I  should  then  draw  upon  their  faith;  and  I 
should  then  expect  that  confidence  in  my  honour  and  arms 
which  I  now  place  on  their  discretion  and  fidelity." 

Exordiums  were  not  requisite  to  nerve  every  limb  and  to 
strengthen  every  heart  in  the  toilsome  journey.  Mountains 
were  climbed,  vast  plains  traversed,  rivers  forded,  and 
precipices  crossed,  without  one  man  in  the  ranks  lingering 
on  his  steps,  or  dropping  his  head  upon  his  pike  to  catch  a 
moment's  slumber.  Those  who  had  fought  with  Wallace 
longed  to  redouble  their  fame  under  his  command,  and  they 
who  had  recently  embraced  his  standard  panted  with  a 
virtuous  ambition  to  rival  these  first-born  in  arms. 

Sir  Roger  Kirkpatrick  had  been  the  first  to  fly  to  arms 
on  the  march  to  Stirling  being  mentioned;  and  when  Wal- 
lace stood  forward  to  declare  that  rest  should  be  dispensed 


280  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

with  till  Stirling  fell,  full  of  a  fierce  joy  the  ardent  knight 
darted  over  every  obstacle  to  reach  his  aim.  He  flew  to 
the  van  of  his  troops,  and  hailing  them  forward,  "  Come 
on ! "  cried  he,  "  and  in  the  blood  of  Cressingham  let  us 
forever  sink  King  Edward's  Scottish  crown." 

The  shouts  of  the  men,  who  seemed  to  drink  in  the  spirit 
that  blazed  from  Kirkpatrick's  eyes,  made  the  echoes  of 
Lammermuir  ring  with  a  strange  noise.  It  was  the  voice 
of  liberty ;  and  leaping  every  bound,  and  with  prodigious 
perseverance  dragging  their  war-machines  in  their  rear, 
did  they  pursue  their  way  till  they  reached  the  Carron  side. 
At  the  moment  the  foaming  steed  of  Wallace,  smoking 
with  the  labors  of  a  long  and  rapid  march,  was  plunging 
into  the  stream  to  take  the  ford,  Ker  snatched  the  bridle 
of  the  horse.  "My  lord,"  cried  he,  "a  man  on  full  speed 
from  Douglas  castle  has  brought  this  packet." 

In  his  march  from  Ayr,  Wallace  had  left  Sir  Eustace 
Maxwell  governor  of  that  castle,  and  Monteith  as  his 
lieutenant. 

Wallace  opened  the  packet,  and  read  as  follows :  — 

The  patriots  in  Annandale  have  been  beaten  by  Lord  de  War- 
enne ;  and  Sir  John  Monteith,  who  volunteered  to  head  them,  is 
taken  prisoner  with  twelve  hundred  men. 

Earl  de  Warenne  comes  to  resume  his  power  as  Lord  Warden 
of  Scotland,  and  to  relieve  his  deputy,  Lord  Aymer  de  Valence, 
who  is  recalled  to  take  possession  of  the  earldom  of  Pembroke. 
In  pursuance  of  his  supposed  duty,  Earl  de  Warenne  is  now 
marching  rapidly  towards  the  Lothians  in  the  hope  of  intercept- 
ing you  in  your  progress. 

Thanks  to  the  information  you  send  us  of  your  movements  for 
our  being  enabled  to  apprise  you  of  this  danger  !  I  should  have 
attempted  to  have  checked  the  Southrons  by  annoying  their  rear, 
had  not  De  Warenne's  numbers  rendered  such  an  enterprise  on 
my  part  hopeless.  His  aim  being  to  come  up  with  you,  if  you 
beat  him  in  the  van  we  shall  have  him  in  the  rear,  and  he  must 
be  surrounded  and  cut  to  pieces.  Surely  the  tree  you  planted  in 
Dumbarton  is  not  now  to  be  blasted  ! 

Ever  my  general's  and  Scotland's  true  servant, 

Eustace  Maxwell. 

"What  answer?"  inquired  Ker. 

Wallace  hastily  engraved  with  his  dagger's  point  upon 


STIRLING.  281 

his  gauntlet,  Reviresco  /  ^  —  "  My  sun  is  above  !  "  and  desir- 
ing it  might  be  given  to  the  messenger  to  carry  to  Sir 
Eustace  Maxwell,  he  refixed  himself  in  his  saddle,  and 
spurred  over  the  Carron. 

The  moon  was  at  her  meridian  as  the  wearied  troops 
halted  on  the  deep  shadows  of  the  Carse  of  Stirling.  All 
around  them  was  desolation.  The  sword  and  the  fire  had 
been  there,  not  in  declared  warfare,  but  under  the  darkness 
of  midnight,  and  impelled  by  rapacity  or  wantonness ;  and 
from  the  base  of  the  rock  even  to  the  foot  of  the  Clack- 
mannan hills,  all  lay  a  smoking  wilderness. 

An  hour's  rest  was  sufficient  to  restore  every  exhausted 
power  to  the  limbs  of  the  determined  followers  of  Wallace  ; 
and  as  the  morning  dawned,  the  sentinels  on  the  ramparts 
of  the  town  were  not  only  surprised  to  see  a  host  below, 
but  that  by  the  most  indefatigable  labor  they  had  not  only 
passed  the  ditch,  but  having  gained  die  counterscarp  had 
fixed  their  movable  towers,  and  were  at  that  instant  over- 
looking the  highest  bastions.  The  mangonels  and  petra- 
ries,  and  other  implements  for  battering  walls,  and  the 
ballista  with  every  efficient  means  of  throwing  missive 
weapons,  were  ready  to  discharge  their  artillery  upon  the 
heads  of  the  besieged. 

At  a  sight  so  unexpected,  which  seemed  to  have  arisen 
out  of  the  earth  like  an  exhalation,  with  such  silence  and 
expedition  had  the  Scottish  operations  been  commenced, 
the  Southrons,  struck  with  dread,  fled  from  the  walls ;  but 
immediately  recovering  their  presence  of  mind,  they  re- 
turned and  discharged  a  cloud  of  arrows  upon  their  oppo- 
nents. A  summons,  meanwhile,  was  sent  to  the  citadel  to 
call  De  Valence  and  the  governor,  Cressingham,  to  the 
defence  of  the  garrison.  The  interior  gates  now  sent  forth 
thousands  to  the  walls ;  but  in  proportion  to  the  numbers 
which  approached,  the  greater  was  the  harvest  of  death 
prepared  for  the  terrible  arm  of  Wallace,  whose  tremendous 
war-wolves  throwing  prodigious  stones,  and  springalls  cast- 
ing forth  brazen  darts,  swept  away  file  after  file  of  the 
reinforcement.  It  grieved  the  noble  heart  of  the  Scottish 
commander  to  see  so  many  valiant  men  urged  to  inevitable 

1  Reviresco  means  "I  bud  again."  This  encouraging  word  is  now 
the  motto  of  the  Maxwell  arms. 


282  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

destruction ;  but  still  they  advanced,  and  that  his  own 
might  be  preserved  they  must  fall.  To  shorten  the  bloody 
contest,  his  direful  weapons  were  worked  with  redoubled 
energy ;  and  so  mortal  a  shower  fell  that  the  heavens 
seemed  to  rain  iron.  The  crushed  and  stricken  enemy, 
shrinking  under  the  mighty  tempest,  left  their  ground. 

The  ramparts  deserted,  Wallace  sprung  from  his  tower 
upon  the  walls.  At  that  moment  De  Valence  opened  one 
of  the  gates,  and  at  the  head  of  a  formidable  body  charged 
the  nearest  Scots.  A  good  soldier  is  never  taken  unawares, 
and  Murray  and  Graham  were  prepared  to  receive  him. 
Furiously  driving  him  to  a  retrograde  motion,  they  forced 
him  back  upon  the  troops  in  the  town.  But  there  all  was 
confusion.  Wallace,  with  his  resolute  followers,  had  al- 
ready put  Cressingham  and  his  legions  to  flight ;  and  closely 
pursued  by  Kirkpatrick,  they  threw  themselves  into  the 
castle.  Meanwhile  the  victorious  commander-in-chief  sur- 
rounded the  amazed  De  Valence,  who,  caught  in  double 
toils,  called  to  his  men  to  fight  for  their  king  to  their  latest 
gasp. 

The  brave  fellows  too  strictly  obeyed ;  and  while  they 
fell  on  all  sides,  he  supported  them  with  a  courage  which 
horror  of  Wallace's  vengeance  for  his  grandfather's  death, 
and  the  attempt  on  his  life  in  the  hall  at  Dumbarton,  ren- 
dered desperate.  At  last  he  encountered  the  conquering 
chieftain  arm  to  arm.  Great  was  the  dread  of  De  Valence 
at  this  meeting ;  but  death  was  now  all  he  saw  before  him, 
and  he  resolved,  if  he  must  die,  that  the  soul  of  his  enemy 
should  attend  him  to  the  other  world. 

He  fought,  not  with  the  steady  valor  of  a  warrior  deter- 
mined to  vanquish  or  to  die,  but  with  the  fury  of  despair, 
with  the  violence  of  a  hyena  thirsting  for  the  blood  of  her 
opponent.  Drunk  with  rage,  he  made  a  desperate  plunge 
at  the  heart  of  Wallace,  —  a  plunge  armed  with  execrations 
and  all  his  strength ;  but  his  sword  missed  its  aim,  fand 
entered  the  side  of  a  youth  who  at  that  moment  had  thrown 
himself  before  his  general.  Wallace  saw  where  the  deadly 
blow  fell ;  and  instantly  closing  on  the  earl  with  a  ven- 
geance in  his  eyes  which  reminded  his  now  determined 
victim  of  the  horrid  vision  he  had  seen  in  the  burning 
Barns  of  Ayr,  with  one  grasp  of  his  arm  he  hurled  him  to 


STIRLING.  283 

the  ground;  and  setting  his  foot  upon  his  breast  would 
have  buried  his  dagger  there,  had  not  De  Valence  dropped 
his  uplifted  sword,  and  with  horror  in  every  feature  raised 
his  clasped  hands  in  speechless  supplication. 

Wallace  suspended  the  blow,  and  De  Valence  exclaimed, 
"  My  hfe !  this  once  again,  gallant  Wallace  !  By  your 
hopes  of  heaven,  grant  me  mercy !  " 

Wallace  looked  on  the  trembling  recreant  with  a  glance, 
which,  had  he  possessed  the  soul  of  a  man,  would  have 
made  him  grasp  at  death  rather  than  deserve  a  second. 
"  And  hast  thou  escaped  me  again  ?  "  cried  Wallace  ;  then 
turning  his  indignant  eyes  from  the  abject  earl  to  his  bleed- 
ing friend,  "  I  yield  him  his  life,  Edwin,  and  you  perhaps 
are  slain  !  " 

"  Forget  not  your  own  bright  principle  to  avenge  me," 
said  Edwin,  gently  smiling.  "  He  has  only  wounded  me. 
But  you  are  safe,  and  I  hardly  feel  a  smart." 

Wallace  replaced  his  dagger  in  his  girdle.  "  Rise,  Lord 
de  Valence ;  it  is  my  honor,  not  my  will,  that  grants  your 
life.  You  threw  away  your  arms  !  I  cannot  strike  even  a 
murderer  who  bares  his  breast.  I  give  you  that  mercy  you 
denied  to  nineteen  unoffending,  defenceless  old  men,  whose 
hoary  heads  your  ruthless  axe  brought  with  blood  to  the 
ground.     Let  memory  be  the  sword  I  have  withheld  !  " 

While  he  spoke,  De  Valence  had  risen,  and  stood  con- 
science-struck before  the  majestic  mien  of  Wallace.  There 
was  something  in  his  denunciation  that  sounded  like  the 
irreversible  decree  of  a  divinity  ;  and  the  condemned  wretch 
quaked  beneath  the  threat,  while  he  panted  for  revenge. 

The  whole  of  the  survivors  in  De  Valence's  train  having 
surrendered  when  their  leader  fell,  in  a  few  minutes  Wal- 
lace was  surrounded  by  his  chieftains,  bringing  in  the 
colors  and  the  swords  of  their  prisoners. 

"  Sir  Alexander  Ramsay,"  said  he,  to  a  brave  and  cour- 
teous knight  who  had  joined  him  in  the  Lothians,  "  I  con- 
fide Earl  de  Valence  to  your  care.  See  that  he  is  strongly 
guarded,  and  has  every  respect  according  to  the  honor  of 
him  to  whom  I  commit  this  charge." 

The  town  was  now  in  possession  of  the  Scots  ;  and  Wal- 
lace, having  sent  off  the  captive  Southrons  to  safe  quarters, 
reiterated  his  persuasions  to  Edwin  to  leave  the  ground  and 


284  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

submit  his  wounds  to  the  surgeon.  "  No,  no,"  replied  the 
youth ;  "  the  same  hand  that  gave  me  this  inflicted 
a  worse  on  my  general  at  Dumbarton.  He  kept  the  field 
then  ;  and  shall  I  retire  now,  and  disgrace  my  example  ? 
No,  my  brother ;  you  would  not  have  me  so  disprove  my 
kindred  ! " 

"  Do  as  you  will,"  answered  Wallace,  with  a  grateful 
smile  ;  "  so  that  you  preserve  a  life  that  must  never  again 
be  risked  to  save  mine.  While  it  is  necessary  for  me  to 
live,  my  Almighty  Captain  will  shield  me;  but  when  his 
word  goes  forth  that  I  shall  be  recalled,  it  will  not  be  in 
the  power  of  friendship  nor  of  hosts  to  turn  the  steel  from 
my  breast.  Therefore,  dearest  Edwin,  throw  not  yourself 
away  in  defending  what  is  in  the  hands  of  Heaven,  to  be 
lent  or  to  be  withdrawn  at  will." 

Edwin  bowed  his  modest  head ;  and  having  suffered  a 
balsam  to  be  poured  into  his  wound,  braced  his  brigandine 
over  his  breast,  and  was  again  at  the  side  of  his  friend  just 
as  he  had  joined  Kirkpatrick  before  the  citadel.  The  gates 
were  firmly  closed,  and  the  dismayed  Cressingham  was 
panting  behind  its  walls  as  Wallace  commanded  the  parley 
to  be  sounded.  Afraid  of  trusting  himself  within  arrow- 
shot  of  an  enemy  who  he  believed  conquered  by  witchcraft, 
the  terrified  governor  sent  his  lieutenant  upon  the  walls  to 
answer  the  summons. 

The  herald  of  the  Scots  demanded  the  immediate  sur- 
render of  the  place.  Cressingham  was  at  that  instant 
informed  by  a  messenger,  who  had  arrived  too  late  the  pre- 
ceding night  to  be  allowed  to  disturb  his  slumbers,  that  De 
Warenne  was  approaching  with  an  immense  army.  In- 
flated with  new  confidence,  he  mounted  the  wall  himself, 
and  in  haughty  language  returned  for  answer  that  he  would 
fall  under  the  towers  of  the  citadel  before  he  would  surren- 
der to  a  Scottish  rebel.  "  And  as  an  example  of  the  fate 
which  such  a  delinquent  merits,"  continued  he,  "  I  will 
change  the  milder  sentence  passed  on  Lord  Mar,  and 
immediately  hang  him  and  all  his  family  on  these  walls  in 
sight  of  your  insurgent  army." 

"  Then,"  cried  the  herald,  "  thus  says  Sir  William  Wal- 
lace :  if  even  one  hair  on  the  heads  of  the  Earl  of  Mar  and 
his  family  falls  with  violence  to  the  ground,  every  Southron 


STIRLING.  285 

soul  who  has  this  day  surrendered  to  the  Scottish  arms 
shall  lose  his  head  by  the  axe." 

"  We  are  used  to  the  blood  of  traitors,"  cried  Cressing- 
ham,  "  and  mind  not  its  scent.  But  the  army  of  Earl  de 
Warenne  is  at  hand,  and  it  is  at  the  peril  of  all  your  necks 
for  the  rebel  your  master  to  put  his  threat  in  execution. 
Withdraw,  or  you  shall  see  the  dead  bodies  of  Donald  Mar 
and  his  family  fringing  these  battlements ;  for  no  terms  do 
we  keep  with  man,  woman,  or  child  who  is  linked  with 
treason ! " 

At  these  w^ords,  an  arrow  winged  from  a  hand  behind 
Cressingham  flew  directly  to  the  unvisored  face  of  Wal- 
lace ;  but  it  struck  too  high,  and  ringing  against  his  helmet, 
fell  to  the  ground. 

" Treachery  !"  resounded  from  every  Scottish  lip;  and 
indignant  at  so  villanous  a  rupture  of  the  parley,  every  bow 
was  drawn  to  the  head,  and  a  flight  of  arrows  armed  with 
retribution  flew  towards  the  battlements.  All  hands  were 
now  at  work  to  bring  the  towers  to  the  wall ;  and  mounting 
on  them,  while  the  archers  by  their  rapid  showers  drove 
the  men  from  the  ramparts,  soldiers  below  with  pickaxes 
destroyed  the  wall  to  make  a  breach. 

Cressingham  began  to  fear  that  his  boasted  auxiliaries 
might  arrive  too  late ;  but  determining  to  gain  time  at 
least,  he  shot  flights  of  darts  and  large  stones  from  a 
thousand  engines,  and  discharged  burning  combustibles 
over  the  ramparts,  in  hopes  of  setting  fire  to  the  enemy's 
attacking  machines. 

But  all  his  promptitude  proved  of  no  effect.  The  walls 
were  giving  way  in  parts ;  and  Wallace  was  mounting  by 
scaling-ladders,  and  clasping  the  parapets  with  the  bridges 
from  his  towers.  Driven  to  extremity,  Cressingham  re- 
solved to  try  the  attachment  of  the  Scots  for  Lord  Mar;  and 
even  at  the  moment  when  Wallace  had  seized  the  barbacan 
and  the  outer  ballium,  this  sanguinary  politician  ordered 
the  imprisoned  earl  to  be  brought  out  upon  the  wall  of  the 
inner  ballia.  A  rope  was  round  his  neck,  with  one  end  run 
through  a  groove  which  projected  from  the  nearest  tower. 

At  this  sight  horror  froze  the  ardent  blood  of  Wallace. 
But  the  intrepid  earl,  descrying  his  friend  on  the  ladder 
which  would  carry  him  to  the  summit  of  the  battlement, 


286  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

exclaimed,   "  Do  not  hesitate !      Let  not  my  span  of   life 
stand  between  my  country  and  this  glorious  victory !  " 

"  Execute  the  sentence  !  "  cried  the  infuriate  Cressinsf- 
ham. 

At  these  words  Murray  and  Edwin  precipitated  them- 
selves upon  the  ramparts,  and  mowed  down  all  before 
them  in  a  direction  towards  their  uncle.  The  heutenant 
who  held  the  cord,  aware  of  the  impolicy  of  the  cruel  man- 
date, hesitated  to  fulfil  it ;  and  now  fearing  a  rescue  from 
the  impetuous  Scots,  he  hurried  his  victim  off  the  works 
back  to  prison. 

Meanwhile,  Cressingham,  perceiving  that  all  would  be 
lost  should  he  suffer  the  enemy  to  gain  this  wall  also,  sent 
such  numbers  upon  the  men-at-arms  who  had  followed  the 
cousins,  that,  overcoming  some  and  repelling  others,  they 
threw  Murray  with  a  sudden  violence  over  the  ramparts. 
Edwin  was  in  a  moment  surrounded  ;  and  they  were  bear- 
ing him  off,  struggling  and  bleeding,  when  Wallace,  spring- 
ing like  a  lioness  on  the  hunters  carrying  away  her  young, 
rushed  in  singly  amongst  them.  He  seized  Edwin;  and 
while  his  falchion  flashed  terrible  threatenings  in  their  eyes, 
with  a  backward  step  he  fought  his  passage  to  one  of  the 
wooden  towers  he  had  fastened  to  the  wall. 

Cressingham  was  wounded  in  the  head,  and  desired  that 
a  parley  should  be  sounded. 

"  We  have  already  taken  Lord  de  Valence  and  his  host 
prisoners,"  returned  Wallace  ;  "  and  we  grant  you  no  cessa- 
tion of  hostilities  till  you  deliver  up  the  Earl  of  Mar  and  his 
family,  and  surrender  the  castle  into  our  hands." 

"Think  not,  proud  boaster!"  cried  the  herald  of  Cres- 
singham, "that  we  ask  a  parley  to  conciliate.  It  was  to 
tell  you  that  if  you  do  not  draw  off  directly,  not  only  the 
Earl  of  Mar  and  his  family,  but  every  Scottish  prisoner 
within  these  walls  shall  perish  in  your  sight." 

While  he  yet  spoke  the  Southrons  uttered  a  great  shout. 
And  the  Scots  looking  up,  beheld  several  high  poles  erected 
on  the  roof  of  the  keep;  and  the  Earl  of  Mar,  as  before, 
was  led  forward.  But  he  seemed  no  longer  the  bold  and 
tranquil  patriot.  He  was  surrounded  by  shrieking  female 
forms  clinging  to  his  knees  ;  and  his  aged  hands  were  lifted 
to  Heaven,  as  if  imploring  its  pity. 


STIRLIXG.  287 

"  Stop  !  "  cried  Wallace,  in  a  voice  whose  thundering  man- 
date rung  from  tower  to  tower.  "  The  instant  he  dies, 
Lord  Aymer  de  Valence  shall  perish." 

He  had  only  to  make  the  sign,  and  in  a  few  minutes  that 
nobleman  appeared  between  Ramsay  and  Kirkpatrick. 

"  Earl,"  exclaimed  Wallace,  "  though  I  granted  your  life 
in  the  field  with  reluctance,  yet  here  I  am  ashamed  to  put 
it  in  danger.  But  your  own  people  compel  me.  Look 
on  that  spectacle  !  A  venerable  father  in  the  midst  of  his 
family,  —  he  and  they  doomed  to  an  ignominious  and  in- 
stant death,  unless  I  betray  my  country  and  abandon  these 
walls  !  Were  I  weak  enough  to  purchase  their  lives  at 
such  an  expense,  they  could  not  survive  that  disgrace.  But 
that  they  shall  not  die  while  I  have  power  to  preserve  them 
is  my  resolve  and  my  duty  !  Life,  then,  for  life  ;  yours  for 
this  family  !  " 

Wallace  directing  his  voice  towards  the  keep,  "  The  mo- 
ment," cried  he,  "  in  which  that  vile  cord  presses  too  closely 
on  the  neck  of  the  Earl  of  Mar  or  of  any  of  his  blood,  the 
axe  shall  sever  the  head  of  Lord  de  Valence  from  his  body." 

De  Valence  was  now  seen  on  the  top  of  one  of  the  be- 
sieging-towers.  He  was  pale  as  death.  He  trembled,  but 
not  with  dismay  only;  ten  thousand  varying  emotions  tore 
his  breast.  To  be  thus  set  up  as  a  monument  of  his  own 
defeat,  to  be  threatened  with  execution  by  an  enemy  he  had 
contemned,  to  be  exposed  to  such  indignities  by  the  un- 
thinking ferocity  of  his  colleague,  filled  him  with  such  con- 
tending passions  of  revenge  against  friends  and  foes  that 
he  forgot  the  present  fear  of  death  in  turbulent  wishes  to 
deprive  of  life  them  by  whom  he  suffered. 

Cressingham  became  alarmed  at  seeing  the  retaliating 
menace  of  Wallace  brought  so  directly  into  execution  ;  and 
dreading  the  vengeance  of  De  Valence's  powerful  family, 
he  ordered  a  herald  to  say  that  if  Wallace  would  draw  off 
his  troops  to  the  outer  ballium  until  evening,  the  Lord  Mar 
and  his  family  should  be  taken  from  their  perilous  situation, 
and  he  would  consider  on  terms  of  surrender. 

Aware  that  Cressingham  only  wanted  to  gain  time  until 
De  Warenne  should  arrive,  Wallace  determined  to  foil  him 
with  his  own  weapons,  and  make  the  gaining  of  the  castle 
the  consequence  of  vanquishing  the  earl.     He  told  the  now 


288  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

perplexed  governor  that  he  should  consider  Lord  de  Val- 
ence as  the  hostage  of  safety  for  Lord  Mar  and  his  family; 
and  therefore  he  consented  to  withdraw  his  men  from  the 
inner  ballium  till  the  setting  of  the  sun,  at  which  hour  he 
should  expect  a  herald  with  the  surrender  of  the  fortress. 

Thinking  that  he  had  caught  the  Scottish  chief  in  a 
snare,  and  that  the  lord  warden's  army  would  be  upon  him 
long  before  the  expiration  of  the  armistice,  Cressingham 
congratulated  himself  upon  his  manoeuvre,  and  resolved 
that  the  moment  Earl  de  Warenne  should  appear  he  would 
destroy  Lord  Mar  secretly  in  the  dungeons. 

Wallace  fully  comprehended  what  were  his  enemy's 
views,  and  what  ought  to  be  his  own  measures.  As  soon, 
therefore,  as  he  saw  the  unhappy  group  disappear  from  the 
battlements  of  the  keep,  he  recalled  his  men  from  the  in- 
ner ballium  wall ;  and  stationing  several  detachments  along 
the  ramparts  and  in  the  towers  of  the  outer  wall,  he  left  De 
Valence  in  the  barbacan,  under  the  charge  of  Lord  Ruth- 
ven,  who  was  eager  himself  to  hold  the  means  that  were  to 
check  the  threatened  danger  of  relatives  so  dear  to  him  as 
were  the  prisoners  in  the  castle. 


CHAPTER  XXXIL 

CAMBUS-KENNETH. 

HAVING  secured  the  advantages  he  had  gained  in  the 
town  and  on  the  works  of  the  castle,  by  manning  all 
the  strong  places,  Wallace  set  forward  with  his  chosen 
troops  to  intercept  De  Warenne. 

He  took  his  position  upon  a  commanding  ground  about 
half  a  mile  from  Stirling,  near  to  the  abbey  of  Cambus- 
Kenneth.  The  Forth  lay  before  him,  crossed  by  a  wooden 
bridge,  over  which  the  enemy  must  pass  to  reach  him,  as 
the  river  was  not  in  that  part  fordable.  He  ordered  the 
timbers  which  supported  the  bridge  to  be  sawed  at  the 
bottom,  but  not  displaced  in  the  least,  that  they  might 
stand  perfectly  firm  for  as  long  as  he  should  deem  it  nec- 
essary.    To  these  timbers  were  fastened  strong  cords ;   all 


CAMB  US-KEN l^E  TH.  289 

of  which  were  intrusted  to  the  sturdiest  of  his  Lanark  men, 
who  lay  concealed  amongst  the  flags. 

These  preparations  being  made,  Wallace  drew  up  his 
troops  in  order  of  battle.  Kirkpatrick  and  Murray  com- 
manded the  flanks.  In  the  centre  stood  Wallace  himself, 
with  Ramsay  on  one  side  of  him  and  Edwin  with  Scrymgeour 
on  the  other,  awaiting  with  steady  expectation  the  approach 
of  the  enemy,  who  by  this  time  could  not  be  far  distant. 

Cressingham  was  not  less  well  informed  of  the  advance 
of  De  Warenne  ;  and  burning  with  malice  against  Wallace, 
and  earnest  to  redeem  the  favor  of  De  Valence  by  some 
act  in  his  behalf,  he  left  certain  orders  with  his  lieutenant, 
and  went  alone  to  an  avenue  of  escape  that  was  never 
divulged  to  any  but  to  the  commanders  of  the  fortress; 
and  there,  by  the  light  of  a  torch  making  his  way  through 
a  passage  that  was  bored  in  the  rock,  he  emerged  at  its 
western  base  screened  from  sight  by  the  surrounding  bushes. 
He  had  wisely  arrayed  himself  in  a  shepherd's  dress,  in 
case  of  being  observed  by  the  enemy  ;  but  fortune  favored 
him,  and  unseen  he  crept  along  through  the  thickets  till  he 
came  up  with  the  advance  of  De  Warenne's  army  on  the 
skirts  of  Tor  wood. 

Having  missed  Wallace  in  West  Lothian,  De  Warenne 
divided  his  army  into  three  divisions,  to  enter  Stirlingshire 
by  different  routes,  hoping  by  that  means  certainly  to  inter- 
cept him  in  one  of  them.  The  Earl  of  Montgomery  led  the 
first,  of  twenty  thousand  men;  Baron  Hilton  the  second,  of 
ten  thousand;  and  De  Warenne  himself  the  third,  of  thirty 
thousand. 

It  was  the  first  of  these  divisions  that  Cressingham  en- 
countered in  Tor  wood  ;  revealing  himself  to  Montgom- 
ery, he  recounted  how  rapidly  Wallace  had  gained  the 
town,  and  in  what  jeopardy  the  citadel  stood  if  he  were 
not  instantly  attacked.  The  earl  advised  waiting  for  a 
junction  with  Hilton  or  the  lord  warden,  "which,"  said  he, 
"  must  happen  in  the  course  of  a  few  hours." 

"In  the  course  of  a  few  hours,"  returned  Cressingham, 
"you  will  have  no  Stirling  castle  to  defend.  The  enemy 
will  seize  it  at  sunset,  in  pursuance  of  the  very  agreement 
by  which  I  warded  him  off  to  give  us  time  to  annihilate 
him  before  that  hour.  Therefore  no  hesitation,  if  we 
VOL.  I.  — 19 


290  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

would  not  see  him  lock  the  gates  of  the  north  of  Scot- 
land upon  us,  even  when  we  have  the  power  to  hurl  him 
to  perdition." 

By  arguments  such  as  these  the  young  earl  was  induced 
to  give  up  his  judgment ;  and  accompanied  by  Cressingham, 
whose  courage  revived  amid  such  a  host,  he  proceeded  to 
the  southern  bank  of  the  Forth. 

The  troops  of  Wallace  were  drawn  up  on  the  opposite 
shore,  hardly  five  thousand  strong,  but  so  disposed  that 
the  enemy  could  not  calculate  their  numbers ;  yet  the  nar 
rowness  of  their  front  suggested  to  Cressingham  they 
could  not  be  numerous,  as  many  must  have  been  left  to 
occupy  the  outworks  of  the  town  and  the  citadel.  "  It  will 
be  easy  to  surround  the  rebel,"  cried  he;  "and  that  we 
may  effect  our  enterprise  before  the  arrival  of  the  warden 
robs  us  of  the  honor,  let  us  about  it  directly,  and  cross  the 
bridge  ! " 

Montgomery  proposed  a  herald  being  sent  to  inform 
Wallace,  that,  besides  the  long  line  of  troops  he  saw,  De 
Warenne  was  advancing  with  double  hosts,  and  that  if  he 
would  now  surrender,  a  pardon  should  be  granted  to  him 
in  the  king's  name  for  all  his  late  rebellions.  Cressingham 
was  vehement  against  this  measure ;  but  Montgomery  being 
resolute,  the  messenger  was  dispatched. 

In  a  few  minutes  he  returned,  and  repeated  to  the  South- 
ron commanders  the  words  of  Wallace ;  "  Go,"  said  he, 
"  tell  your  masters  we  came  not  here  to  treat  for  a  pardon 
of  what  we  shall  never  allow  to  be  an  offence ;  we  came  to 
assert  our  rights,  and  to  set  Scotland  free.  Till  that  is 
effected,  all  negotiation  is  vain.  Let  them  advance,  they 
will  find  us  prepared." 

"Then  onward!"  cried  Montgomery;  and  spurring  his 
steed,  he  led  the  way  to  the  bridge.  His  eager  soldiers 
followed,  and  the  whole  of  his  centre  ranks  passed  over. 
The  flanks  advanced,  and  the  bridge  from  end  to  end  was 
filled  with  archers,  cavalry,  men-atarms,  and  war-carriages  ; 
and  Cressingham  in  the  midst  was  hallooing  in  proud 
triumph  to  those  who  occupied  the  rear  of  the  straining 
beams,  when  the  blast  of  a  trumpet  sounded  from  the 
till  now  silent  and  immovable  Scottish  phalanx.  It  was 
re-echoed  by  shouts  from  behind  the  passing  enemy,  and 


CAMB  US-KENNETH.  29 1 

in  that  moment  the  supporting  piers  of  the  bridge  ^  were 
pulled  away,  and  the  whole  of  its  mailed  throng  precipitated 
into  the  stream. 

The  cries  of  the  maimed  and  the  drowning  were  joined 
by  the  terrific  slogan  of  two  bands  of  Scots,  —  the  one  with 
Wallace  towards  the  head  of  the  river,  and  the  other  under 
the  command  of  Sir  John  Graham,  who  rushed  from  his 
ambuscade  on  the  opposite  side  upon  the  rear  of  the  dis- 
mayed troops  ;  and  both  divisions,  sweeping  all  before 
them,  drove  those  who  fought  on  land  into  the  river,  and 
those  who  had  escaped  the  flood  to  meet  its  waves  again, 
a  bleeding  host. 

In  the  midst  of  this  conflict,  which  rather  seemed  a 
carnage  than  a  battle,  Kirkpatrick,  having  heard  the  proud 
shouts  of  Cressingham  on  the  bridge,  now  sought  him  amidst 
its  shattered  timbers  with  the  ferocity  of  a  tiger  hunting 
for  his  prey.  He  ran  from  man  to  man  as  the  strugghng 
wretches  emerged  from  the  water;  he  plucked  them  from 
the  surge ;  but  even  while  his  glaring  eye-balls  and  uplifted 
axe  threatened  destruction,  he  only  looked  on  them,  and 
with  imprecations  of  disappointment,  rushed  forward  on 
his  chase.  Almost  in  despair  that  the  waves  had  cheated 
his  revenge,  he  was  hurrying  in  another  direction,  when  he 
perceived  a  body  moving  through  a  hollow  on  his  right. 
He  turned,  and  saw  the  object  of  his  search  crawling 
amongst  the  mud  and  sedges. 

"Ha!"  cried  Kirkpatrick,  with  a  voice  of  thunder,  "art 
thou  yet  mine  1  Damned,  damned  villain  ! "  cried  he, 
springing  upon  Cressingham's  breast.  "  Behold  the  man 
you  dishonored  !  Behold  the  hot  cheek  your  dastard  hand 
defiled  !  Thy  blood  shall  obliterate  the  stain ;  and  then 
Kirkpatrick  may  again  front  the  proudest  in  Scotland  ! " 

"  For  mercy  ! "  cried  tlie  horror-struck  Cressingham, 
struggling  with  preternatural  strength  to  extricate  himself. 

"  Hell  would  be  my  portion,  did  I  grant  mercy  to  thee  ! " 
cried  Kirkpatrick ;  and  with  one  stroke  of  his  axe  he  sev- 
ered Cressingham's  head  from  his  body.  "I  am  a  man 
again  ! "  shouted  Kirkpatrick,  as  he  held  the  bleeding  head 

1  This  historic  fact  relating  to  Stirling  bridge  is  yet  exnltinglv  repeated 
on  the  spot ;  and  the  number  of  Southrons  who  fell  beneatii  the  arms  of 
so  small  a  band  of  Scots  is  not  less  the  theme  of  triumph. 


292  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

in  his  hand,  and  placed  it  on  the  point  of  his  sword.  "  Thou 
ruthless  priest  of  Moloch  and  of  Mammon,  thou  shalt  have 
thine  own  blood  to  drink,  while  I  show  my  general  how 
proudly  I  am  avenged  !  " 

As  he  spoke  he  dashed  amongst  the  victorious  ranks, 
and  reached  Wallace  at  the  very  moment  he  was  extricating 
himself  from  his  fallen  horse,  which  a  random  arrow  had 
shot  under  him.  Murray  at  the  same  instant  was  bringing 
up  the  wounded  Montgomery,  who  came  to  surrender  his 
sword,  and  to  beg  quarter  for  his  men.  The  earl  turned 
deadly  pale,  as  the  first  object  that  struck  his  sight  was  the 
fierce  knight  of  Torthorald  walking  under  a  stream  of  blood, 
which  continued  to  flow  from  the  ghastly  head  of  Cressing- 
ham  as  he  held  it  triumphantly  in  the  air. 

"  If  that  be  your  chief,"  cried  Montgomery,  "  I  have 
mistaken  him  much  !     I  cannot  yield  my  sword  to  him." 

Murray  understood  him.  "If  cruelty  be  an  evil  spirit," 
returned  he,  "  it  has  fled  every  breast  in  this  army  to  take 
shelter  with  Sir  Roger  Kirkpatrick  ;  and  its  name  is  legion ! 
That  is  my  chief  !  "  added  he,  pointing  to  Wallace,  with  an 
evident  consciousness  of  deriving  honor  from  his  command. 
Wallace  rose  from  the  ground ;  and  though  dyed  in  the 
same  ensanguined  hue  that  had  excited  the  abhorrence  of 
Montgomery,  yet  it  had  been  drawn  from  his  own  veins 
and  those  of  his  horse.  And  all  of  blood  about  him  seemed 
to  be  on  his  garments ;  none  was  in  his  eyes ;  none  in  his 
heart,  but  what  warmed  it  to  mercy  and  to  benevolence  for 
all  mankind.  His  eye  momentarily  fell  on  the  approaching 
figure  of  Kirkpatrick,  who,  waving  the  head  in  the  air,  blew 
from  his  bugle  the  triumphal  notes  of  the  Pryse,^  and  then 
cried  aloud :  "  I  have  slain  the  wolf  of  Scotland !  My 
brave  Highlanders  are  now  casing  my  target  with  his 
skin ;  ^  and  when  I  strike  its  bossy  sides,  I  will  exclaim, 
'  So  perishes  my  dishonor !  So  perish  all  the  enemies  of 
Scotland  ! ' " 

"  And  with  the  extinction  of  that  breath,  Kirkpatrick," 

1  The  Pryse  were  the  notes  sounded  in  hunting,  at  the  death  of  the 
game. 

2  It  is  recorded  that  the  memory  of  Cressingham  was  so  odious  to  the 
Scots,  they  did  indeed  flay  his  dead  body,  and  make  saddles  and  girths 
and  other  things  of  his  skin. 


CAMS  US-KENNETH.  293 

cried  Wallace,  looking  sternly  from  the  head  to  him,  "let 
your  fell  revenge  perish  also.  For  your  own  honor,  commit 
no  indignities  on  the  body  you  have  slain." 

"  'T  is  for  you  to  conquer  like  a  god  !  "  cried  Kirkpatrick  ; 
"  I  have  felt  as  a  man,  and  like  a  man  I  revenge.  This 
head  shall  destroy  even  in  death,  —  it  shall  vanquish  its 
friends  for  me ;  for  f  will  wear  it  like  a  Gorgon  on  my  sword, 
to  turn  to  stone  every  Southron  who  looks  on  it."  As  he 
spoke,  he  disappeared  amongst  the  thickening  ranks;  and 
as  the  triumphant  Scots  hailed  him  as  he  passed,  Mont- 
gomery, thinking  of  his  perishing  men,  suffered  Murray  to 
lead  him  to  the  scene  of  his  humility. 

The  ever-comprehensive  eye  of  Wallace  perceived  him 
as  he  advanced ;  and  guessing  by  his  armor  and  dignified 
demeanor  who  he  was,  with  a  noble  grace  he  raised  his 
helmed  bonnet  from  his  head  as  the  earl  approached  him. 
Montgomery  looked  on  him.  He  felt  his  soul  even  more 
subdued  than  his  arms  ;  but  still  there  was  something 
about  a  soldier's  heart  that  shrunk  from  yielding  his  power 
of  resistance.  The  blood  mounted  into  his  before  pale 
cheeks ;  he  held  out  his  sword  in  silence  to  the  victor, 
for  he  could  not  bring  his  tongue  to  pronounce  the  word 
"  surrender." 

Wallace  understood  the  sign,  and  holding  up  his  hand  to 
a  herald,  the  trumpet  of  peace  was  raised.  It  sounded, 
and  where  the  moment  before  was  the  horrid  clash  of  arms, 
the  yell  of  savage  conquest,  and  direful  cries  for  mercy,  all 
was  still  as  death.  Not  that  death  which  has  passed,  but 
that  which  is  approaching.  None  spoke;  not  a  sound  was 
heard  but  the  low  groans  of  the  dying,  who  lay  overwhelmed 
and  perishing  beneath  the  bodies  of  the  slain  and  the  feet 
of  the  living. 

The  voice  of  Wallace  rose  from  this  awful  pause.  Its 
sound  was  ever  the  harbinger  of  glory,  or  of  good-will  to 
men.  "  Soldiers  !  "  cried  he,  "  God  has  given  victory.  Let 
us  show  our  gratitude  by  our  moderation  and  mercy- 
Gather  the  wounded  into  quarters,  and  bury  the  dead." 

Wallace  then  turned  to  the  extended  sword  of  the  earl ; 
he  put  it  gently  back  with  his  hand.  "Ever  wear  what  you 
honor,"^said  he;  "  but  gallant  Montgomery,  when  you  next 
draw  it,  let  it  be  in  a  better  cause.     Learn,  brave  earl,  to 


294  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

discriminate  between  a  warrior's  glory  and  his  shame,  — 
between  the  defender  ot  his  country  and  the  unprovoked 
ravager  of  foreign  States." 

Montgomery  blushed  scarlet  at  these  words,  but  it  was 
not  with  resentment.  He  looked  down  for  a  moment, 
"Ah,"  thought  he,  "perhaps  I  ought  never  to  have  drawn 
it  here!"  Then  raising  his  eyes  to  Wallace,  he  said; 
"  Were  you  not  the  enemy  of  my  king,  who,  though  a  con- 
queror, sanctions  none  of  the  cruelties  that  have  been  com- 
mitted in  his  name,  I  would  give  you  my  hand  before  the 
remnant  of  his  brave  troops,  whose  lives  you  grant.  But 
you  have  my  heart,  —  a  heart  that  knows  no  difference  be- 
tween friend  or  foe,  when  the  bonds  of  virtue  would  unite 
what  only  civil  dissensions  divide." 

"  Had  your  king  possessed  the  virtues  you  believe  he 
does,"  replied  Wallace,  "my  sword  might  have  now  been  a 
pruning  hook.  But  that  is  passed.  We  are  in  arms  for 
injuries  received,  and  to  drive  out  a  tyrant ;  for  believe  me, 
noble  Montgomery,  that  monarch  has  little  pretensions  to 
virtue  who  suffers  the  oppressors  of  his  people  or  of  his 
conquests  to  go  unpunished.  To  connive  at  cruelty  is  to 
practise  it;  and  has  Edward  ever  frowned  on  one  of  those 
despots  who  in  his  name  have  for  these  two  years  past  laid 
Scotland  in  blood  and  ashes?  " 

The  appeal  was  too  strong  for  Montgomery  to  answer; 
he  felt  its  truth,  and  bowed  with  an  expression  in  his  face 
that  told  more  than,  as  a  subject  of  England,  he  dared 
declare. 

The  late  expecting  silence  was  now  turned  into  the  clam- 
orous activity  of  eager  obedience.  The  prisoners  were 
conducted  to  the  rear  ot  the  town,  while  the  major  part  of 
the  troops  (leaving  a  detachment  to  unburden  the  earth  of 
its  bleeding  load)  came  in  front  of  Stirling  just  as  De 
Warenne's  division  appeared  on  the  horizon  like  a  mov- 
ing cloud  gilded  by  the  now  setting  sun.  At  this  sight 
Wallace  sent  Edwin  into  the  town  with  Lord  Montgomery, 
and  extending  his  line,  prepared  to  bear  down  upon  the 
approaching  earl. 

But  the  iord  warden  had  received  information  which 
fought  better  for  the  Scots  than  a  host  of  swords.  When 
advanced  a  very  little  onward  on  the  Carse  ot  Stirling,  one 


C  AMBUS-KENNETH.  295 

of  his  scouts  brought  information,  that  having  approached 
the  south  side  of  the  Forth  he  had  seen  the  river  floating 
with  dead  bodies,  and  Southron  soldiers  flying  on  all  sides, 
while  the  Scottish  horns  were  blowing  the  notes  of  victory. 
From  what  he  had  learned  from  the  fugitives,  he  also  in- 
formed his  lord  "that  he  had  found  it  necessary  to  fly  for 
fear  of  being  impeded  in  his  return  to  him  ;  as  not  only  the 
town  and  citadel  of  Stirling  had  been  taken  by  Sir  William 
Wallace,  but  the  two  detachments  under  Montgomery  and 
Hilton  were  both  discomfited,  and  their  leaders  slain  or 
taken." 

At  this  intelligence  Earl  de  Warenne  stood  aghast;  and 
while  he  was  still  doubting  that  such  disgrace  to  King 
Edward's  arms  could  be  possible,  two  or  three  fugitives 
came  up  and  witnessed  to  its  truth.  One  had  seen  Kirk- 
patrick  with  the  bloody  head  of  the  governor  of  Stirling  on 
his  sword.  Another  had  been  near  Cressingham  in  the 
wood  when  he  told  Montgomery  of  the  capture  of  De 
Valence  ;  and  concluding  that  he  meant  the  leader  of  the 
third  division,  he  corroborated  the  scout's  information  of 
the  two  defeats,  adding  (for  terror  magnified  the  objects  of 
fear)  that  the  Scot's  army  was  incalculable,  but  was  so  dis- 
posed by  Sir  William  Wallace  as  to  appear  inconsiderable, 
that  he  might  ensnare  his  enemies  by  filling  them  with 
hopes  of  an  easy  conquest. 

These  accounts  persuaded  De  Warenne  to  make  a  re 
treat ;  and  intimidated  by  the  exaggerated  representations 
of  those  who  had  fled,  his  men  with  no  little  precipitation 
turned  to  obey. 

Wallace  perceived  the  retrograde  motion  of  his  enemy's 
routes ;  and  while  a  stream  of  arrows  from  his  archers 
poured  upon  them  like  hail,  he  bore  down  upon  the  rear- 
guard with  his  cavalry  and  men-at-arms,  and  sent  Graham 
round  by  the  wood  to  surprise  the  flanks. 

All  was  executed  with  promptitude  ;  and  the  tremendous 
slogan  sounding  from  side  to  side,  the  terrified  Southrons, 
before  in  confusion,  now  threw  away  their  arms  to  lighten 
themselves  for  escape.  Sensible  that  it  is  not  the  number 
of  the  dead  but  the  terror  of  the  living  which  gives  the 
finishing  stroke  to  conquest,  De  Warenne  saw  the  effects 
of  this  panic  in  the  total  disregard  of  his  orders  ;  and  dread- 


296  THE   SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

lul  would  have  been  the  carnage  of  his  troops  had  he  not 
sounded  a  parley. 

The  bugle  of  Wallace  instantly  answered  it.  De  Warenne 
sent  forward  his  herald.  He  offered  to  lay  down  his  arms, 
provided  he  might  be  exempted  from  relinquishing  the  royal 
standard,  and  that  he  and  his  men  might  be  permitted  to 
return  without  delay  into  England. 

Wallace  accepted  the  first  article ;  granted  the  second ; 
but  with  regard  to  the  third  he  declared  it  must  be  on  con- 
dition that  he,  the  Lord  de  Warenne,  and  the  officers  taken 
in  his  army  or  in  other  engagements  lately  fought  in  Scot- 
land, should  be  immediately  exchanged  for  the  like  number 
of  noble  Scots  he  should  name,  who  were  prisoners  in  Eng- 
land ;  and  that  the  common  men  of  the  army,  now  about  to 
surrender  their  arms,  should  take  an  oath  never  to  serve 
again  against  Scotland. 

These  prehminaries  being  agreed  to,  the  lord  warden 
advanced  at  the  head  of  his  thirty  thousand  troops ;  and 
first  laying  down  his  own  sword,  which  Wallace  immediately 
returned  to  him,  the  officers  and  soldiers  marched  by  with 
their  heads  uncovered,  throwing  dowm  their  weapons  as 
they  approached  their  conqueror.  Wallace  extended  his 
line  as  the  procession  moved ,  tor  he  had  too  much  policy 
to  show  his  enemies  that  thirty  thousand  men  had  yielded, 
almost  without  a  blow,  to  scarce  five  thousand.  The  oath 
was  administered  to  each  regiment  by  heralds  sent  for  that 
purpose  into  the  strath  of  Monteith,  whither  Wallace  directed 
the  captured  legions  to  assemble  and  refresh  themselves, 
previous  to  their  departure  next  morning  for  England. 

The  privates  thus  disposed  of,  to  release  himself  from  the 
commanders  also,  Wallace  told  De  Warenne  that  duty 
called  him  away,  but  every  respect  would  be  paid  to  them 
by  the  Scottish  officers.  He  then  gave  directions  to  Sir 
Alexander  Ramsay  to  escort  De  Warenne  and  the  rest  of 
the  noble  prisoners  to  Stirling.  Wallace  himself  turned 
with  his  veteran  band  to  give  a  conqueror's  greeting  to  the 
Baron  of  Hilton. 


STIRLING   CASTLE.  297 


CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

STIRLING    CASTLE. 

THE  prisoners  taken  with  Montgomery  were  lodged 
behind  the  town,  and  the  wounded  carried  into  the 
abbey  of  Cambus-Kenneth ;  but  when  Edwin  came  to  move 
the  earl  himself,  he  found  him  too  faint  with  loss  of  blood 
to  sit  a  horse  to  Snowdoun.  He  therefore  ordered  a  litter, 
and  so  conveyed  his  brave  prisoner  to  the  palace  of  the 
kings  of  Scotland  in  Stirling. 

The  priests  in  Wallace's  army  not  only  exercised  the 
Levitical,  but  the  good  Samaritan's  functions;  and  they 
soon  obeyed  the  young  knight's  summons  to  dress  the 
wounds  of  Montgomery. 

Messengers  had  arrived  from  Wallace,  acquainting  his 
chieftains  in  Stirling  with  the  surrender  of  De  Warenne's 
army.  Hence  no  surprise  was  created  in  the  breast  of  the 
wounded  earl  when  he  saw  his  commander  enter  the  room 
as  the  prisoner  of  the  illustrious  Scot. 

Montgomery  held  out  his  hand  to  the  lord  warden  in 
silence,  and  with  a  flushed  cheek. 

"Blush  not,  my  noble  friend!"  cried  De  Warenne. 
"These  wounds  speak  more  eloquently  than  a  thousand 
tongues  the  gallantry  with  which  you  maintained  the  sword 
that  fate  compelled  you  to  surrender.  But  I,  without  a 
scratch  !  how  can  I  meet  the  unconquered  Edward  1  And 
yet  it  was  not  for  myself  I  feared ;  my  brave  and  confid- 
ing soldiers  were  in  all  my  thoughts.  For  I  saw  it  was  not 
to  meet  an  army  1  led  them,  but  against  a  whirlwind,  a 
storm  of  war,  with  which  no  strength  that  I  commanded 
could  contend." 

While  the  English  generals  thus  conversed,  Edwin's  im- 
patient heart  yearned  to  be  again  at  the  side  of  Wallace; 
and  he  gladly  resigned  the  charge  of  his  noble  prisoner  to 
Sir  Alexander  Ramsay.  Soon  as  he  found  a  cessation  in 
the  conversation  of  the  two  earls,  he  drew  near  Montgomery 
to  take  his  leave. 


298  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

"  Farewell  till  we  meet  again  ! "  said  the  young  earl, 
pressing  his  hand.  "  You  have  been  a  friend  rather  than 
an  enemy  to  me." 

"  Because,"  returned  Edwin,  "  I  follow  the  example  of 
my  general,  who  would  willmgly  be  the  friend  of  all  man- 
kind." 

Warenne  looked  at  him  with  surprise.  "  And  who  are 
you,  who  in  that  stripling  form  utter  sentiments  which 
might  grace  the  maturest  years  .-'  " 

With  a  sweet  dignity  Edwin  replied,  "  I  am  Edwin  Ruth- 
ven,  the  adopted  brother  of  Sir  William  Wallace." 

"  And  the  son  of  him,"  asked  De  Warenne,  "  who,  with  Sir 
Wilham  Wallace,  was  the  first  to  mount  Dumbarton  walls  t " 

At  these  words  the  cheek  of  Edwin  was  suffused  with  a 
more  animated  bloom.  At  the  moment  when  his  courage 
was  distinguished  on  the  heights  of  Dumbarton  by  the 
vowed  friendship  of  Wallace,  he  found  himself  beloved  by 
the  bravest  and  most  amiable  of  beings,  and  in  his  light  he 
felt  both  warmth  and  brightness;  but  this  question  of  De 
Warenne  conveyed  to  him  that  he  had  found  tame  him- 
self, —  that  he  was  then  publicly  acknowledged  to  be  an 
object  not  unworthy  of  being  called  the  brother  of  Sir 
William  Wallace  !  And  casting  down  his  eyes,  beaming 
with  exultation,  from  the  fixed  gaze  of  De  Warenne,  he 
answered,  "  1  am  that  happy  Ruthven,  who  had  the  honor 
to  mount  Dumbarton  rock  by  tlie  side  of  my  general,  and 
from  his  hand  there  received  the  stroke  of  knighthood." 

De  Warenne  rose,  much  agitated.  "If  such  be  the  boys 
of  Scotland  need  we  wonder,  when  the  spirit  of  resistance 
is  roused  in  the  nation,  that  our  strength  should  wither  be- 
fore its  men  !  " 

"At  least,"  said  Montgomery,  whose  admiration  of  what 
had  passed  seemed  to  reanimate  his  languid  faculties,  "■  it 
deprives  defeat  of  its  sting  when  we  are  conscious  we 
yielded  to  a  power  that  was  irresistible.  But,  my  lord," 
added  he,  "  if  the  courage  of  this  youth  amazes  you,  what 
will  you  say  ought  to  be  the  fate  of  this  country,  —  ought  to 
be  the  crown  of  Sir  William  Wallace's  career,  when  you 
know  by  what  a  chain  of  brave  hearts  he  is  surrounded? 
Even  tender  woman  loses  the  weakness  of  her  sex  when 
she  belongs  to  him." 


STIRLING   CASTLE.  299 

Earl  de  Warenne,  surprised  at  the  energy  with  which 
Montgomery  spoke,  looked  at  him  with  an  expression  that 
told  him  so.  "  Yes,"  continued  Montgomery,  "  I  witnessed 
the  heroism  of  Lady  Wallace  when  she  defended  the 
character  of  her  husband  in  the  midst  of  an  armed  host,  and 
preserved  the  secret  of  his  retreat  inviolate ;  I  saw  that 
loveliest  of  women  whom  the  dastard  Heselrigge  slew." 

"  Disgrace  to  knighthood  !  "  cried  Edwin,  with  indignant 
vehemence,  "if  you  were  a  spectator  of  that  bloody  deed, 
retire  from  this  house  ;  go  to  Cambus-Kenneth,  any  where, — 
but  leave  this  town  before  the  injured  Wallace  arrives. 
Blast  not  his  eyes  with  a  second  sight  of  one  who  could 
have  beheld  his  wife  murdered  !  " 

Every  eye  was  now  fixed  on  the  commanding  figure  of 
the  young  Edwin,  who  stood  with  the  determination  of  be- 
ing obeyed  breathing  in  every  look.  De  Warenne  then  at 
once  saw  the  possibility  of  so  gentle  a  creature  being  trans- 
formed into  the  soul  of  enterprise,  into  the  fearless  and  ef- 
fective soldier. 

Lord  Montgomery  held  out  his  hand  to  Edwin.  "By 
this  right  arm  I  swear,  noble  youth,  that  had  I  been  on  the 
spot  when  Heselrigge  lifted  his  sword  against  the  breast  of 
Lady  Wallace,  I  would  have  sheathed  my  sword  in  his  ! 
It  was  not  then  that  I  saw  that  matchless  woman.  Of- 
fended with  my  want  of  severity  in  the  scrutiny  I  had  made 
at  EUerslie  a  few  hours  before,  Heselrigge  sent  me  to  Ayr. 
Arnulf  quarrelled  with  me  on  the  same  subject,  and  I  re- 
tired in  disgust  to  England." 

"  Then,  how  ?  —  you  ought  to  be  Sir  Gilbert  Hamble- 
don  I "  said  Edwin  ;  "  but  whoever  you  are,  as  you  were 
kind  to  the  Lady  Marion,  I  cannot  but  regret  my  late  hasty 
charge,  and  for  which  I  beg  your  pardon." 

Montgomery  took  his  hand  and  pressed  it.  "Generous 
Ruthven,  your  warmth  is  too  honorable  to  need  forgiveness. 
I  am  that  Sir  Gilbert  Hambledon;  and  had  I  remained  so, 
I  should  not  now  be  in  Scotland.  But  in  an  interview  with 
the  Prince  of  Wales  on  my  accession  to  the  earldom  of 
Montgomery,  he  said  it  had  been  rumored  that  I  was  dis- 
loyal in  my  heart  to  my  king ;  '  and  to  prove  the  falsehood 
of  your  calumniators,'  continued  he,  '  I  appoint  you  second 
in  command  to  Earl  de  Warenne  in  the  new  expedition 


300  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

against  Scotland.'  To  have  refused  to  fight  against  Sir 
William  Wallace  would  have  been  to  have  accused  myself 
of  treason.  And  while  I  respected  the  husband  of  the  mur- 
dered Lady  Marion,  I  yet  condemned  him  as  an  insurgent; 
and  with  the  same  spirit  you  follow  him  to  the  field,  I 
obeyed  the  commands  of  my  prince." 

"  Lord  Montgomery,"  returned  Edwin,  "  I  am  rejoiced  to 
meet  one  who  proves  to  me  what  my  general,  wronged  as 
he  has  been,  yet  always  inculcates,  —  that  all  the  South- 
rons are  not  base  and  cruel.  When  he  knows  who  is  in- 
deed his  prisoner,  what  recollection  will  it  not  awaken  !  Till 
you  again  meet  I  will  not  intimate  to  him  the  melancholy 
satisfaction  he  is  to  enjoy ;  for  with  the  remembrances  it 
will  arouse,  your  presence  must  bring  the  antidote." 

The  brave  youth,  then  telling  Ramsay  in  what  parts  of 
the  palace  the  rest  of  the  lords  were  to  be  lodged,  took  his 
leave,  and  with  recovered  composure  descended  to  the  court- 
yard to  take  horse  for  Tor  wood.  He  was  galloping  along 
under  the  bright  light  of  the  moon  when  he  heard  a  squad- 
ron on  full  speed  approaching,  and  presently  Murray  ap- 
peared at  its  head. 

"  Edwin,"  cried  he,  "  I  was  coming  to  you.  We  are  sent 
to  demand  the  instant  surrender  of  the  citadel.  Hilton's 
division  has  surrendered,  and  we  are  complete  masters  of 
the  field  !  " 

The  baron  came  up  about  half  an  hour  after  Ear)  de 
Warenne  had  marched  towards  the  town.  Sir  William 
Wallace  immediately  sent  forward  his  heralds  with  the 
colors  of  De  Valence  and  IVlontgomery,  also  the  warden 
banner  of  De  Warenne,  and  required  Hilton  to  lay  down 
his  arms.  The  sight  of  these  standards  was  sufficient  to 
assure  him  there  was  no  deceit  in  the  embassy.  The  nature 
of  his  position  precluded  retreat;  and  not  seeing  any  rea- 
son for  ten  thousand  men  disputing  the  day  with  a  power  to 
whom  fifty  thousand  had  just  surrendered,  he  embraced  the 
terms  proposed. 

The  instant  Hilton  put  his  argent  banner  *  into  the  victor's 

hand,  Wallace  knew  the  castle  must  now  be  his,  since  he 

had  discomfited  all  who  would  have  maintained  it  against 

him.     Impatient  to  apprise  Lord  Mar  and  his   family  of 

i  The  arms  of  HiUon  are  argent,  two  bars  azure. 


STIRLING   CASTLE.  3OI 

their  safety,  he  dispatched  Murray  with  a  considerable  es- 
cort to  demand  its  surrender. 

Murray  gladly  obeyed ;  and  accompanied  by  Edwin,  with 
the  banners  of  Cressingham  and  De  Warenne  trailing  in 
the  dust,  he  arrived  before  the  castle  and  summoned  the 
lieutenant  to  the  walls.  But  that  officer,  well  aware  of  what 
was  going  to  happen,  feared  to  appear.  From  the  battle- 
ments of  the  keep  he  had  seen  the  dreadful  conflict  on  the 
banks  of  the  Forth;  he  had  seen  the  thousands  of  De 
Warenne  pass  before  the  conqueror.  To  punish  their 
treachery  in  having  suffered  Cressingham  to  steal  out  un- 
der the  armistice,  and  their  upholding  the  breaking  of  his 
word  to  surrender  at  sunset,  the  terrified  officer  believed 
that  Wallace  was  now  come  to  put  the  whole  garrison  to 
the  sword. 

At  the  first  sight  of  Murray's  approaching  squadron  the 
lieutenant  hurried  to  Lord  Mar,  to  offer  him  immediate 
liberty  if  he  would  go  forth  to  Wallace  and  treat  with  him 
to  spare  the  lives  of  the  garrison.  Closed  up  in  a  solitary 
dungeon,  the  earl  knew  nought  of  what  had  happened  with- 
out ;  and  when  the  Southron  entered,  he  expected  it  was  to 
lead  him  to  the  death  that  had  been  twice  averted.  But 
the  pale  and  trembHng  lieutenant  had  no  sooner  spoken  the 
first  word  than  Mar  discerned  it  was  a  suppliant,  not  an 
executioner,  he  saw  before  him  ;  and  he  was  even  prom- 
ising that  clemency  from  Wallace  which  he  knew  dwelt 
in  his  heart,  when  Murray's  trumpet  sounded. 

The  lieutenant  started  horror-struck  on  his  feet.  "  It  is 
now  too  late !  I  have  not  made  the  first  overture,  and 
there  sounds  the  death  knell  of  this  garrison  !  I  saved  your 
life.  Earl,"  said  he,  turning  more  confidently  to  Mar. 
"  When  the  enraged  Cressingham  commanded  me  to  pull 
the  cord  which  would  have  launched  you  into  eternity,  I 
disobeyed  him  !  For  my  sake,  then,  preserve  this  garrison, 
and  accompany  me  to  the  ramparts." 

The  chains  were  immediately  knocked  off  the  limbs  of 
Mar;  and  the  lieutenant  presenting  him  with  a  sword,  they 
approached  the  battlements.  As  the  declining  moon  shone 
on  their  backs,  Murray  did  not  discern  that  it  was  his  uncle 
who  mounted  the  wall ;  but  calling  to  him  in  a  voice  which 
declared  there  was  no  appeal,  he  pointed  to  the  humbled 


302  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

colors  of  Edward,  and  demanded  the  instant  surrender  of 
the  citadel. 

"  Let  it  be,  then,  with  the  pledge  of  Sir  William  Wallace's 
mercy  !  "  cried  the  venerable  earl. 

"  With  every  pledge,  Lord  Mar,"  returned  Murray,  now 
joyfully  recognizing  his  uncle,  "which  you  think  safe  to 
give." 

"  Then  the  keys  of  the  citadel  are  yours,"  cried  the  lieu- 
tenant.    "  I  only  ask  the  lives  of  my  garrison." 

This  was  granted,  and  immediate  preparations  made  for 
the  admission  of  the  Scots.  As  the  enraptured  Edwin 
heard  the  heavy  chains  of  the  portcullis  drawing  up  and 
the  massy  bolts  of  the  huge  doors  grating  in  their  guards, 
he  thought  of  his  mother's  liberty,  of  his  father's  joy  in 
pressing  her  again  in  his  arms ;  and  hastening  to  the  tower 
where  Lord  Ruthven  held  watch  over  the  now  sleeping  De 
Valence,  he  told  him  all  that  had  happened.  "  Go,  my 
father,"  added  he;  "  enter  with  Murray,  and  be  the  first  to 
open  the  prison  doors  of  my  dearest  mother." 

Lord  Ruthven  embraced  his  son.  "  My  dear  Edwin,  this 
sacrifice  to  my  feelings  is  worthy  of  you  ;  but  I  have  a  duty 
to  perform  superior  to  even  the  tenderest  private  ones.  I  am 
planted  here  by  my  commander  ;  and  shall  I  quit  my  station 
for  any  gratification  till  he  gives  me  leave  ?  No,  dear  boy. 
Be  you  my  representative  to  your  mother;  and  while  my 
example  teaches  you  above  all  earthly  considerations  to 
obey  our  general,  your  tender  embraces  will  show  her  what 
I  sacrifice  to  duty." 

Edwin  no  longer  urged  his  father,  but  left  the  apartment 
and  flew  to  the  gate  of  the  inner  ballium.  It  was  open; 
and  Murray  already  stood  on  the  platform  before  the  keep 
receiving  the  keys  of  the  garrison. 

"  Blessed  sight !  "  cried  the  earl  to  his  nephew.  "  When 
I  put  the  banner  of  Mar  into  your  unpractised  hand,  little 
could  I  expect  that  in  the  course  of  four  months  I  should 
see  my  brave  Andrew  receive  the  keys  of  proud  Stirling 
from  its  commander  !  " 

Murray  smiled,  while  his  plumed  head  bowed  gratefully 
to  his  uncle ;  and  turning  to  the  lieutenant,  "  Now,"  said 
he,  "  lead  me  to  the  ladies  Mar  and  Ruthven,  that  I  may 
assure  them  they  are  free." 


STIRLING   CASTLE.  303 

The  gates  of  the  keep  were  now  unclosed,  and  the  lieu- 
tenant conducted  his  victors  along  a  gloomy  passage  to  a 
low  dooT  studded  with  knobs  of  iron.  As  he  drew  the  bolt 
he  said  to  Lord  Alar,  "  These  severities  are  the  hard  pohcy 
of  Governor  Cressingham."  He  pushed  the  door  slowly 
open,  and  discovered  a  small  miserable  cell,  whose  walls  of 
rugged  stone  had  no  other  covering  than  the  incrustations 
which  time  and  many  a  dripping  winter  had  strown  over 
its  vaulted  sides.  On  the  ground,  on  a  pallet  of  straw,  lay 
a  female  figure  in  a  profound  sleep.  But  the  light  which 
the  lieutenant  held  streaming  full  upon  the  uncurtained 
slumberer,  she  started,  and  with  a  shriek  of  terror  at  sight 
of  so  many  armed  men,  revealed  the  pallid  features  of  the 
Countess  of  Mar.  With  an  anguish  which  hardly  the  free- 
dom he  was  going  to  bestow  could  ameliorate,  the  earl 
rushed  for^vard,  and  throwing  himself  beside  her  caught 
her  in  his  arms. 

"Are  we  then  to  die?"  cried  she,  in  a  voice  of  horror. 
"  Has  Wallace  abandoned  us  ?  Are  we  to  perish  ?  Heart- 
less, heartless  man !  " 

Overcome  by  his  emotions,  the  earl  could  only  strain  her 
to  his  breast  in  speechless  agitation.  Edwin  saw  a  picture 
of  his  mother's  sufferings  in  the  present  distraction  of  the 
countess,  and  he  felt  his  powers  of  utterance  locked  up ; 
but  Lord  Andrew,  whose  ever  light  heart  was  gay  the 
moment  he  was  no  longer  unhappy,  jocosely  answered : 
"  My  fair  aunt,  there  are  many  hearts  to  die  by  your  eyes 
before  that  day  ;  and  meanwhile,  I  come  from  Sir  William 
Wallace  to  set  you  free  !  " 

The  name  of  Wallace,  and  the  intimation  that  he  had 
sent  to  set  her  free,  drove  every  former  thought  of  death 
and  misery  from  her  mind.  Again  the  ambrosial  gales  of 
love  seemed  to  breathe  around  her ;  she  saw  not  her  prison 
walls  ;  she  felt  herself  again  in  his  presence ;  and  in  a  bliss- 
ful trance,  rather  endured  than  reciprocated  the  warm 
congratulations  of  her  husband  on  their  mutual  safety. 

Edwin  and  Murray  withdrew  to  follow  the  lieutenant, 
who  preceded  them ;  and  stopping  at  the  end  of  the 
gallery,  "  Here,"  said  he,  "is  Lady  Ruthven's  habitation; 
it  is  not  better  than  the  countess's."  As  he  spoke  he  threw 
open  the  door,  and  discovered  its  sad  inmate  also  asleep. 


304  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

But  when  the  glad  voice  of  Edwin  pierced  her  ear,  when 
his  fond  embraces  clung  to  her  bosom,  her  surprise  and 
emotions  were  almost  insupportable.  Hardly  crediting  her 
senses,  that  he  whom  she  had  believed  was  safe  in  the 
cloisters  of  St.  Columba  could  be  within  the  dangerous 
walls  of  Stirling,  that  it  was  his  mailed  breast  which  pressed 
against  her  bosom,  that  it  was  his  voice  she  heard  exclaim- 
ing, "  Mother,  we  come  to  give  you  freedom  !  "  —  all 
appeared  to  her  like  a  dream  of  madness.  She  listened, 
she  felt  him,  she  found  her  cheek  wet  with  his  rapturous 
tears.  "  Am  I  in  my  right  mind  }  "  cried  she,  looking  at 
him  with  a  fearful  yet  overjoyed  countenance.  "  Am  I 
not  mad  ?  Oh,  tell  me,"  cried  she,  turning  to  Murray  and 
the  lieutenant,  "  is  this  my  son  that  I  see,  or  has  terror 
turned  my  brain  ?  " 

"  It  is  indeed  your  son,  your  Edwin,  my  very  self!  "cried 
he,  alarmed  at  the  expression  of  her  voice  and  countenance. 

Murray  now  advanced,  and  kneeling  down  by  her,  gently 
took  her  hand.  "  He  speaks  truth,  my  dear  madam.  It  is 
your  son  Edwin.  He  left  his  convent  to  be  a  volunteer 
with  Sir  William  Wallace.  He  has  covered  himself  with 
honor  on  the  walls  of  Dumbarton  ;  and  here  also,  a  sharer 
in  his  leader's  victories,  he  is  come  to  set  you  free." 

At  this  explanation,  which  being  given  in  the  sober  lan- 
guage of  reason  Lady  Ruthven  believed,  she  gave  way  to 
the  full  happiness  of  her  soul,  and  falling  on  the  neck  of 
her  son,  embraced  him  with  a  flood  of  tears  :  "  And  thy 
father,  Edwin,  where  is  he  ?  Did  not  the  noble  Wallace 
rescue  him  from  Ayr  ?  " 

"  He  did  ;  and  he  is  here."  Edwin  then  related  to  his 
mother  the  affectionate  embassy  of  his  father,  and  the 
particulars  of  his  release.  Perceiving  how  happily  they 
were  engaged,  Murray  rose  from  his  knees,  and  requested 
the  lieutenant  to  conduct  him  to  Lady  Helen. 

His  guide  led  him  by  a  winding  staircase  into  a  stone 
gallery,  where,  letting  Lord  Andrew  into  a  spacious  apart- 
ment divided  in  the  midst  by  a  vast  screen  of  carved  cedar 
wood,  he  pointed  to  a  curtamed  entrance.  "  Within  that 
chamber,"  said  he,  "  is  the  Lady  Helen." 

"  Ah,  my  poor  cousin  !  "  exclaimed  Murray,  "  though 
she  seems  not  to  have  tasted  the  hardships  of  her  parents, 


STIRLING   CASTLE.  305 

she  has  shared  their  misery  I  do  not  doubt !  "  As  he 
spoke,  the  lieutenant  bowed  in  silence,  and  Murray  entered 
alone.  The  chamber  was  magnificent,  and  illumined  by 
a  lamp  which  hung  from  the  ceiling.  He  cautiously  ap- 
proached the  bed,  fearing  too  hastily  to  disturb  her,  and 
gently  pulling  aside  the  curtain,  beheld  vacancy.  An  ex- 
clamation of  alarm  had  almost  escaped  him,  when  observ- 
ing a  half-open  door  at  the  other  side  of  the  apartment,  he 
drew  towards  it;  and  there  beheld  his  cousin  with  her 
back  to  him,  kneeling  before  a  crucifix.  She  spoke  not, 
but  the  fervor  of  her  action  manifested  how  earnestly  she 
prayed.  He  moved  behind  her,  but  she  heard  him  not. 
Her  whole  soul  was  absorbed  in  the  success  of  her  peti- 
tion ;  and  at  last  raising  her  clasped  hands  in  a  paroxysm 
of  emotion,  she  exclaimed,  — 

"If  that  trumpet  sounded  the  victory  of  the  Scots,  then, 
Power  of  Goodness,  receive  thy  servant's  thanks !  But  if 
De  Warenne  has  conquered  where  De  Valence  failed ;  if 
all  whom  I  love  be  lost  to  me  here,  take  me  then  to  thyself, 
and  let  my  freed  spirit  fly  to  their  embraces  in  heaven  !  " 

"  Ay,  and  on  earth  too,  thou  blessed  angel ! "  cried 
Murray,  throwing  himself  towards  her. 

Helen  started  from  her  knees,  and  with  such  a  cry  as  the 
widow  of  Serepta  uttered  when  she  embraced  her  son  from 
the  dead,  she  threw  herself  on  the  bosom  of  her  cousin, 
and  closed  her  eyes  in  a  blissful  swoon  ;  for  even  while 
every  outward  sense  seemed  fled  the  impression  of  joy 
played  about  her  heart,  and  the  animated  throbbings  of 
that  of  Murray,  while  he  pressed  her  in  his  arms,  at  last 
aroused  her  to  recollection.  Her  glistening  and  uplifted 
eyes  told  all  the  happiness,  all  the  gratitude  of  her  soul. 
"  My  father,  —  all  are  safe  ?  "  demanded  she. 

"All,  my  best  beloved  !  "  answered  Murray,  forgetting  in 
the  powerful  emotions  of  his  heart  that  what  he  felt  and 
what  he-  uttered  were  beyond  even  a  cousin's  limits.  "  My 
uncle,  the  Countess,  Lord  and  Lady  Ruthven,  —  all  are 
safe." 

"  And  Sir  William  Wallace  ?  "  cried  she,  —  "  you  do  not 
mention  him  !     I  hope  no  ill  —  " 

"  He  is  conqueror  here  !  "  interrupted  Murray.     "  He  has 
subdued   every   obstacle   between    Berwick   and  Stirling; 
VOL.  I.  —  20 


306  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

and  he  has  sent  me  hither  to  set  you  and  the  rest  of  the 
dear  prisoners  free." 

Helen's  heart  throbbed  with  a  new  tumult  as  he  spoke. 
She  longed  to  ask  whether  the  unknown  knight,  from  whom 
she  had  parted  in  the  hermit's  cell,  had  ever  joined  Sir  Wil- 
liam Wallace.  She  yearned  to  know  that  he  yet  lived.  At 
the  thought  of  the  probabihty  of  his  having  fallen  in  some 
of  these  desperate  conflicts  her  soul  seemed  to  gasp  for 
existence  ;  and  dropping  her  head  on  her  cousin's  shoulder, 
"  Tell  me,  Andrew  —  "  said  she,  and  there  she  paused,  with 
an  emotion  for  which  she  could  not  account  to  herself. 

"  Of  what  would  my  sweet  cousin  inquire  ? "  asked 
Murray,  partaking  her  agitation. 

"  Nothing  particular,"  said  she,  covered  with  blushes ; 
" but  did  you  fight  alone  in  these  battles?  Did  no  other 
knight  but  Sir  William  Wallace  —  " 

"Many,  dearest  Helen,"  interrupted  Murray,  enraptured 
at  a  solicitude  which  he  appropriated  to  himself.  "  Many 
knights  joined  our  arms.  All  fought  in  a  manner  worthy 
of  their  leader;  and  thanks  to  Heaven,  none  have  fallen! 

"  Thanks  indeed !  "  cried  Helen  ;  and  with  a  hope  she 
dared  hardly  whisper  to  herself  of  seeing  the  unknown 
knight  in  the  gallant  train  of  the  conqueror,  she  said,  "  Now, 
Andrew,  lead  me  to  my  father." 

Murray  would  perhaps  have  required  a  second  bidding 
had  not  Lord  Mar,  impatient  to  see  his  daughter,  appeared 
with  the  countess  at  the  door  of  tlie  apartment.  Hastening 
towards  them  Helen  fell  on  the  bosom  of  her  father;  and 
while  she  bathed  his  face  and  hands  with  her  glad  tears,  he 
too  wept  and  mingled  blessings  with  his  caresses.  No 
coldness  here  met  his  paternal  heart,  no  distracting  confu- 
sions tore  her  from  his  arms,  no  averted  looks  by  turns 
alarmed  and  chilled  the  bosom  of  tenderness.  All  was  in- 
nocence and  duty  in  Helen's  breast,  and  every  ingenuous 
action  showed  its  affection  and  its  joy.  The  estranged 
heart  of  Lady  Mar  had  closed  against  him;  and  though  he 
suspected  not  its  wanderings,  he  felt  the  unutterable  differ- 
ence between  the  warm  transports  of  his  daughter  and  the 
frigid  gratulations  forced  from  the  lips  of  his  wife. 

Lady  Mar  gazed  with  a  weird  frown  on  the  lovely  form 
of  Helen  as  she  wound  her  exquisitely  turned  arms  around 


STIRLING    CASTLE.  307 

the  earl  in  filial  tenderness.  Her  bosom  heaving  in  the 
snowy  whiteness  of  virgin  purity,  her  face  radiant  with 
the  softest  blooms  of  youth,  —  all  seemed  to  frame  an 
object  which  malignant  fiends  had  conjured  up  to  blast 
her  hopes.  "  Wallace  will  behold  these  charms !  "  cried 
her  distracted  spirit  to  itself ;  "  and  then,  where  am  1 1 " 

As  her  thoughts  followed  each  other,  she  unconsciously 
darted  looks  on  Helen  which  if  an  evil-eye  had  any  witch- 
ing power  would  have  withered  all  her  beauties.  At  one 
of  these  portentous  moments  the  glad  eyes  of  Helen  met 
her  glance;  she  started  with  horror.  It  made  her  remem- 
ber how  she  had  been  betrayed,  and  all  she  had  suffered 
from  Soulis.  But  she  could  not  forget  that  she  had  also 
been  rescued ;  and  with  this  thought  the  image  of  her  pre- 
server rose  before  her.  At  this  gentle  idea  her  alarmed 
countenance  took  a  softer  expression  ;  and  tenderly  sighing, 
she  turned  to  her  father's  question  of  how  she  came  to  be 
with  Lady  Ruthven,  when  he  had  been  taught  by  Lord 
Andrew  to  believe  she  was  safe  at  St.  Fillan's. 

"Yes,"  cried  Murray,  throwing  himself  on  a  seat  beside 
her,  "  I  saw  in  your  letter  to  Sir  William  Wallace  that  you 
had  been  betrayed  by  some  traitor  Scot  from  your  asylum ; 
and  but  for  the  fulness  of  my  joy  at  our  meeting,  I  should 
have  inquired  who  the  villain  was." 

Lady  Mar  felt  a  deadly  sickness  at  her  heart  on  hearing 
that  Sir  William  Wallace  was  so  far  acquainted  with  her 
daughter  as  to  have  received  a  letter  from  her ;  and  in 
amazed  despair  she  prepared  to  listen  to  what  she  expected 
would  bring  a  death-stroke  to  her  hopes.  They  had  met ! 
they  wrote  to  each  other!  Then,  far  indeed  had  proceeded 
that  communication  of  hearts  which  was  the  aim  of  her  life, 
and  she  was  undone  ! 

Helen  glanced  at  the  face  of  Lady  Mar,  and  observing  its 
changes  regarded  them  as  corroborations  of  her  guilt.  It 
was  conscience  accusing  her  of  having  intended  to  betray 
her  daughter  to  Soulis  at  Bothwell,  and  bidding  her  prepare 
to  hear  how,  in  consequence,  she  had  afterwards  fallen  into 
his  hands.  "  If  conscience  disturbs  you  thus,"  thought 
Helen,  "  let  it  rend  your  heart  with  shame,  and  perhaps 
remorse  may  follow  !  " 

As  the  tide  of   success  seemed   so  full  for  the  Scots, 


308  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

Helen  no  longer  feared  that  her  cousin  would  rashly  seek 
a  precarious  vengeance  on  Soulis  when  he  might  probably 
so  soon  have  an  opportunity  of  making  it  certain  at  the 
head  of  an  army.  She  therefore  commenced  her  narrative 
from  the  time  of  Murray's  leaving  her  at  the  priory,  and 
continued  it  to  the  hour  when  she  met  her  father  a  prisoner 
in  the  streets  of  Stirling.  As  she  proceeded,  the  indigna- 
tion both  of  the  earl  and  of  Murray  against  Soulis  was 
vehement ;  and  the  latter  was  full  of  immediate  personal 
revenge.  But  the  earl,  with  arguments  similar  to  those 
which  had  suggested  themselves  to  his  daughter,  calmed 
his  nephew's  rage,  and  saw  him  reseat  himself,  with  re- 
pressed though  burning  resentment,  to  listen  to  the  remainder 
of  her  relation. 

The  quaking  conscience  of  Lady  Mar  did  indeed  vary 
her  cheeks  witli  a  thousand  dyes  when,  as  Helen  repeated 
part  of  the  conversation  with  Macgregor's  wife,  Murray 
abruptly  said,  "  Surely  that  woman  could  name  the  traitor 
who  betrayed  us  into  the  hands  of  our  enemies  !  Did  she 
not  hint  it?" 

Helen  cast  down  her  eyes,  that  even  a  glance  might  not 
overwhelm  with  insupportable  shame  the  already  trembling 
countess.  Lady  Mar  saw  that  she  was  acquainted  with 
her  guilt ;  and  expecting  no  more  mercy  than  she  knew  she 
would  show  to  Helen  in  the  like  circumstances,  she  hastily 
rose  from  her  chair,  internally  vowing  vengeance  against 
her  triumphant  daughter  and  hatred  of  all  mankind. 

But  Helen  thought  the  countess  might  have  erred  from 
blind  affection  to  her  husband,  and  she  determined  never 
to  accuse  her.  Therefore  while  all  the  furies  raged  in  the 
breast  of  this  guilty  woman,  Helen  simply  answered,  "  You 
do  not  think  that  Lord  Soulis  would  be  so  weak  as  to  trust 
a  secret  of  that  kind  with  a  servant  ?  "  And  then  hurrying 
the  relation  of  svibsequent  events,  the  countess  breathed 
again,  and  almost  deceiving  herself  with  the  hope  that 
Helen  was  ignorant  of  her  treachery,  listened  with  emo- 
tions of  another  kind  when  she  heard  of  the  rescue  of 
her  daughter-in-law.  She  saw  Wallace  in  the  brave  act ! 
But  as  Helen,  undesignedly  to  herself,  passed  over  the  most 
interesting  parts  of  their  conversations  and  never  named 
the  graces  of  his  person,  Lady  Mar  thought  that  to  have 


STIRLING   CASTLE.  309 

viewed  Wallace  with  so  little  notice  would  have  been  im- 
possible ;  and  therefore  without  surprise  at  her  first  suspic- 
ion being  entirely  removed,  but  glad  of  such  a  conviction 
that  he  and  her  daughter  had  never  met,  she  heard  Helen 
say  that  the  unknown  chief  had  promised  to  join  his  arms 
with  those  of  Wallace. 

Murray  looked  on  Helen  as  she  spoke,  with  an  impres- 
sion at  his  heart  that  made  it  pause.  Something  in  this 
interview  had  whispered  to  him,  what  he  had  never  dreamt 
before,  that  she  was  dearer  to  him  than  fifty  thousand 
cousins ;  and  while  the  blood  flushed  and  retreated  in  the 
complexion  of  Helen,  and  her  downcast  eyes  refused  to 
show  what  was  passing  there  as  she  hastily  ran  over  the 
circumstances  of  her  acquaintance  with  the  stranger  knight, 
his  own  emotions  declared  the  secret  of  hers ;  and  with  a 
lip  as  pale  as  her  own,  he  said,  "  But  where  is  this  brave 
man  .''  He  cannot  have  yet  joined  us  ;  for  surely  he  would 
have  told  Wallace  or  myself  that  he  came  from  you  !  " 

"  I  warned  him  not  to  do  so,"  replied  she,  "  for  fear  that 
your  indignation  against  my  enemies,  my  dear  cousin,  might 
have  precipitated  you  into  dangers  inimical  to  the  duty  you 
owe  your  country." 

"  Then  if  he  has  joined  us,"  replied  Murray,  rising  from 
his  seat,  "  you  will  probably  soon  know  who  he  is.  To- 
morrow morning  Sir  William  Wallace  will  enter  the  cita- 
del, attended  by  his  principal  knights,  and  in  the  train  you 
will  doubtless  discover  the  man  who  has  laid  such  obliea- 

O 

tions  on  us  all  by  your  preservation.  Glad  shall  I  be  to 
have  an  opportunity  of  expressing  my  gratitude." 

Murray's  feelings  told  him  that  glad  should  he  be  if 
that  gratitude  would  repay  him,  and  if  the  confusion  of 
Helen  when  she  mentioned  him  did  not  arise  from  the  con- 
scious remembrance  of  some  tenderer  communion  than  the 
mere  act  of  her  rescue  ! 

Helen  herself  knew  not  how  to  account  for  the  agitation 
which  shook  her  whenever  she  adverted  to  her  unknown 
preserver.  At  the  time  of  the  hermit's  friend  the  good 
lay-brother  attending  her  to  Alloa,  when  she  explained  to 
Lady  Ruthven  the  cause  of  her  strange  arrival,  she  told 
her  story  with  composure  till  she  mentioned  her  deliverer ; 
then,  for  the  first  time,  she  felt  a  confusion  that  disordered 


3IO  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

the  animation  with  which  she  described  his  patriotism  and 
his  bravery.  But  it  was  natural,  she  thought ;  gratitude  for 
a  recent  benefit  made  her  heart  beat  high  :  it  was  something 
like  the  enthusiasm  she  had  felt  for  Wallace  on  the  rescue 
of  her  father,  and  she  was  satisfied.  When  a  few  days  of 
quiet  at  Alloa  had  recovered  her  health  from  the  shock  it 
had  received  in  the  recent  scenes,  she  proposed  to  her  aunt 
to  send  some  trusty  messenger  to  inform  the  imprisoned 
earl  at  Dumbarton  of  her  happy  refuge. 

Lady  Ruthven  suggested  the  impropriety  of  such  a  pro- 
ject, urging  the  probability  that  the  messenger  would  be 
intercepted,  and  so  her  asylum  be  discovered.  "  Let  it 
alone,"  continued  she,  "  till  this  knight  of  yours,  by  per- 
forming his  word,  calls  you  to  declare  his  honorable  deeds. 
Till  then,  Lord  Mar,  ignorant  of  your  danger,  needs  no 
assurance  of  your  safety." 

This  casual  reference  to  the  knight  made  the  before 
tranquil  heart  of  Helen  renew  its  throbbings;  and  turning 
from  her  aunt  with  an  acquiescing  reply,  she  retired  to  her 
own  apartment  to  quell  the  unusual  and  painful  blushes 
she  felt  burning  on  her  cheeks.  Why  she  should  feel 
thus  she  could  not  account,  "  Unless,"  said  she  to  herself, 
"  I  fear  that  my  suspicion  may  be  guessed  at.  Should  my 
words  or  looks  betray  the  royal  Bruce  to  any  harm,  that 
moment  of  undesigned  ingratitude  would  be  the  last  of  my 
life." 

This  explanation  seemed  an  ample  apology  to  herself. 
And  henceforth  avoiding  all  mention  of  her  preserver  in 
her  conversations  with  Lady  Ruthven,  she  confined  the 
subject  to  her  own  breast ;  and  thinking  that  she  thought 
of  him  more  by  her  attention  to  speak  of  him  less,  she 
wondered  not  that  whenever  she  was  alone  his  image  im- 
mediately rose  in  her  mind,  his  voice  seemed  to  sound  in 
her  ears,  and  even  as  the  summer  air  wafted  its  soft  fra- 
grance over  her  cheek,  she  would  turn  as  if  she  felt  that 
breath  which  had  so  gently  hushed  her  to  repose.  She 
would  then  start  and  sigh,  and  repeat  his  words  to  herself ; 
but  all  was  then  serene  in  her  bosom.  It  seemed  as  if  the 
contemplation  of  so  much  loveliness  of  soul  in  so  beautiful 
a  form  soothed  instead  of  agitating  her  heart.  "  What  a 
king   will   he   be  !  "   thought  she ;    "  with   what   transport 


STIRLING   CASTLE.  3  II 

would  the  virtuous  Wallace  set  the  Scottish  crown  on  so 
noble  a  brow  !  " 

Such  were  Helen's  meditations  and  feelings  when  she 
was  brought  a  prisoner  to  Stirling.  And  when  she  heard 
of  the  victories  of  Wallace,  she  could  not  but  think  that  the 
brave  arm  of  her  knight  was  there ;  and  that  he,  with  the 
renowned  champion  of  Scotland,  would  fly  on  the  receipt 
of  her  letter  to  Stirling,  there  to  repeat  the  valiant  deeds  of 
Dumbarton.  The  first  blast  of  the  Scottish  trumpet  under 
the  walls  found  her,  as  she  had  said,  upon  her  knees,  and 
kept  her  there  ;  for  hardly  with  any  intermission,  with  fast 
and  prayer,  did  she  kneel  before  the  altar  of  Heaven,  till 
the  voice  of  Andrew  Murray  at  midnight  called  her  to 
freedom  and  to  happiness. 

Wallace,  and  perhaps  her  nameless  hero  with  him,  had 
again  conquered  !  His  idea  dwelt  in  her  heart,  and  faltered 
on  her  tongue  ;  and  yet,  in  reciting  the  narrative  of  her  late 
sufferings  to  her  father,  when  she  came  to  the  mentioning 
of  the  stranger's  conduct  to  her,  with  embarrassment  she 
felt  her  augmented  emotions  as  she  drew  near  the  subject, 
and  hurrj'ing  over  the  event  she  could  only  excuse  herself 
for  such  perturbation  by  supposing  that  the  former  treason 
of  Lady  Mar  excited  her  alarm  for  fear  she  would  now  fix 
on  a  new  object.  Turning  cold  at  an  idea  pregnant  with 
such  horror,  she  hastily  passed  from  so  agitating  a  theme 
to  speak  of  De  Valence,  and  the  respect  with  which  he 
had  treated  her  during  her  imprisonment.  His  courtesy 
had  professed  to  deny  nothing  to  her  wishes  but  her  per- 
sonal liberty  and  any  conference  with  her  parents  and  aunt. 
Her  father's  life,  he  said,  was  altogether  out  of  his  power 
to  grant ;  he  might  suspend  the  sentence,  but  he  could  not 
abrogate  it. 

"  Yes,"  cried  her  father,  "  though  false  and  inflexible,  I 
must  not  accuse  him  of  having  been  so  barbarous  in  his 
tyranny  as  Cressingham.  For  it  was  not  until  De  Valence 
was  taken  prisoner  that  Joanna  and  I  were  divided.  Till 
then  we  were  lodged  in  decent  apartments  ;  but  on  that 
event  Cressingham  tore  us  from  each  other,  and  threw  us 
into  different  dungeons.  My  sister  Janet  I  never  saw  since 
the  hour  we  were  separated  in  the  street  of  Stirling  until 
the  awful  minute  in  which  we  met  on  the  roof  of  this  castle, 


312  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

when  I  expected  to  see  her  and  my  wife  die  before  my 
eyes." 

Helen  now  learned  for  the  first  time  the  base  cruelties 
which  had  been  exercised  on  her  father  and  his  family 
since  the  capture  of  De  Valence.  She  had  been  exempted 
from  sharing  them  by  the  fears  of  Cressingham,  who,  know- 
ing that  the  English  earl  had  particular  views  with  regard 
to  her,  durst  not  risk  offending  him  by  outraging  one  whom 
he  had  declared  himself  determined  to  protect. 

During  part  of  this  conversation  Murray  withdrew  to 
bring  Lady  Ruthven  and  her  son  to  share  the  general  joy 
of  full  domestic  reunion.  The  happy  Edwin  and  his 
mother  having  embraced  these  dear  relatives,  with  yet 
more  tender  affections  yearning  in  their  bosoms  accom- 
panied Murray  to  the  door  of  the  barbacan  which  con- 
tained Lord  Ruthven.  They  entered  on  the  wings  of 
conjugal  and  filial  love;  and  the  for  once  pensive  Lord 
Andrew  returned  into  the  castle,  to  see  that  all  was  safely 
disposed  for  the  remainder  of  the  night. 


CHAPTER   XXXIV. 

THE   CITADEL. 

AT  noon,  next  day,  Murray  received  a  message  from 
Wallace,  desiring  him  to  tell  the  Earl  of  Mar  that 
he  was  coming  to  the  citadel  to  offer  the  palace  of  Snaw- 
doun  to  the  ladies  of  Mar,  and  to  request  the  earl  to  take 
charge  of  the  illustrious  prisoners  he  was  bringing  to  the 
castle. 

Each  member  of  the  family  hastened  to  prepare  for  an 
interview  which  excited  different  expectations  in  each 
different  breast.  Lady  Mar,  well  satisfied  that  Helen  and 
Wallace  had  never  met,  and  clinging  to  the  vague  words  of 
Murray  that  he  had  sent  to  give  her  liberty,  called  forth 
every  art  of  the  toilet  to  embellish  her  still  fine  person. 
Lady  Ruthven,  with  the  respectable  eagerness  of  a  chaste 
matron  in  prospect  of  seeing  the  man  who  had  so  often 


THE    CITADEL.  313 

been  the  preserver  of  her  brother,  and  who  had  so  lately 
delivered  her  husband  from  a  loathsome  dungeon,  was  the 
first  who  joined  the  earl  in  the  great  gallery.  Lady  Mar 
soon  after  entered  like  Juno,  in  all  her  plumage  of  majesty 
and  beauty. 

But  the  trumpet  of  Wallace  had  sounded  in  the  gates  be- 
fore the  trembling,  half-fainting  Helen  could  leave  her  room. 
It  was  the  herald  of  his  approach,  and  she  sunk  breathless 
into  a  seat.  She  was  now  going  to  see,  for  the  first  time, 
the  man  whose  woes  she  had  so  often  wept,  —  the  man  who 
had  incurred  them  all  for  objects  dear  to  her.  He  whom 
she  had  mourned  as  one  stricken  in  sorrows,  and  feared  for 
as  an  outlaw  doomed  to  suffering  and  to  death,  was  now  to 
appear  before  her,  not  in  the  garb  of  woe  which  excuses 
the  sympathy  its  wearer  excites,  but  arrayed  as  a  con- 
queror,— as  the  champion  of  Scotland,  giving  laws  to  her 
oppressors,  and  entering  in  triumph  over  fields  of  their 
slain ! 

Awful  as  this  picture  was  to  the  timidity  of  her  gentle 
nature,  it  alone  did  not  occasion  that  inexpressible  sensa- 
tion which  seemed  to  check  the  pulses  of  her  heart.  Was 
she,  or  was  she  not,  to  see  in  his  train  the  young  and  noble 
Bruce  ?  Was  she  to  be  assured  that  he  still  existed,  or  by 
seeking  him  everywhere  in  vain,  be  convinced  that  he 
who  could  not  break  his  word  had  perished  lonely  and 
unknown  ? 

While  these  ideas  thronged  into  her  mind,  the  platform 
below  was  filling  with  the  triumphant  Scots  ;  and  her  door 
suddenly  opening,  Edwin  entered  in  delighted  haste. 
"  Come,  cousin,"  cried  he,  "  Sir  William  Wallace  has 
almost  finished  his  business  in  the  great  hall.  He  has 
made  my  uncle  governor  of  this  place,  and  has  committed 
nearly  a  thousand  prisoners  of  rank  to  his  care.  If  you  be 
not  expeditious,  you  will  allow  him  to  enter  the  gallery  be- 
fore you." 

Hardly  observing  her  face,  from  the  happy  emotions 
which  dazzled  his  own  eyes,  he  seized  her  hand  and  hurried 
her  to  the  gallery. 

Her  aunt  and  step-mother  only  were  there.  Lady  Ruth- 
ven  sat  composedly  on  a  tapestried  bench,  awaiting  the  ar- 
rival of  the  company.     But  Lady  Mar  was  near  the  door, 


314  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

listening  impatiently  to  the  voices  beneath.  At  sight  of 
Helen  she  drew  back  ;  but  she  smiled  exultingly  when  she 
saw  that  all  that  splendor  of  beauty  she  had  lately  beheld  and 
so  dreaded  was  fled.  Her  unadorned  garments  gave  no  par- 
ticular attraction  to  the  simple  lines  of  her  form ;  the  efful- 
gence of  her  complexion  was  gone,  her  cheek  was  pale ; 
and  the  tremulous  motion  of  her  step  deprived  her  of  that 
elastic  grace  which  was  the  peculiar  charm  of  her  nymph- 
like figure. 

Triumph  now  sat  in  the  eyes  of  the  countess;  and  with 
an  air  of  authority  she  waved  Helen  to  take  a  seat  beside 
Lady  Ruthven.  But  Helen,  fearful  of  what  might  be  her 
emotion  when  the  train  should  enter,  had  just  placed  her- 
self behind  her  aunt,  when  the  steps  of  many  a  mailed  foot 
sounded  upon  the  stone  gallery.  The  next  moment  the 
great  doors  in  the  oaken  screen  opened,  and  a  crowd  of 
knights  in  armor  flashed  upon  her  eyes.  A  dimness  over- 
spread her  faculties,  and  nothing  appeared  to  her  but  an 
indistinct  throng  approaching.  She  would  have  given 
worlds  to  have  been  removed  from  the  spot,  but  was  unable 
to  stir;  and  her  recovering  senses  beheld  Lady  Mar,  who, 
exclaiming  "  Ever  my  preserver  !  "  had  hastened  forward, 
and  was  now  leaning  on  the  bosom  of  one  of  the  chiefs  : 
his  head  was  bent  as  if  answering  her  in  a  low  voice.  By 
the  golden  locks  which  hung  down  upon  the  jewelled 
tresses  of  the  countess  and  obscured  his  face,  she  judged  it 
was  indeed  the  deliverer  of  her  father,  the  knight  of  her 
dream.  But  where  was  he  who  had  delivered  herself  from 
a  worse  fate  than  death  ;  where  was  the  dweller  of  her 
daily  thoughts,  the  bright  apparition  of  her  un-slumbering 
pillow. 

Helen's  sight,  now  clearing  to  as  keen  a  vision  as  be- 
fore it  had  been  dulled  and  indistinct,  with  a  timid  and 
anxious  gaze  glanced  from  face  to  face  of  the  chieftains 
around ;  but  all  were  strange,  and  withdrawing  her  eyes 
with  a  sad  conviction  that  their  search  was  indeed  in  vain, 
in  the  moment  of  despair  they  were  arrested  by  a  glimpse 
of  the  features  of  Wallace.  He  raised  his  head ;  he  shook 
back  his  clustering  hair,  and  her  secret  was  revealed.  In 
that  god-like  countenance  she  recognized  the  object  of  her 
devoted  wishes,  and  with  a  gasp  of  overwhelming  surprise 


THE   CITADEL.  315 

she  would  have  fallen  from  her  seat,  had  not  Lady  Ruth- 
ven,  hearing  a  sound  like  the  sigh  of  death,  turned  round 
and  caught  her  in  her  arms.  The  cry  of  her  aunt  drew 
every  eye  to  the  spot.  Wallace  immediately  relinquished 
the  countess  to  her  husband,  and  moved  towards  the  beau- 
tiful and  senseless  form  that  lay  on  the  bosom  of  Lady 
Ruthven.     The  earl  and  his  agitated  wife  followed. 

"  What  ails  my  Helen?"  asked  the  affectionate  father. 

"  I  know  not,"  replied  his  sister ;  "  she  sat  behind 
me.  I  knew  nothing  of  her  disorder  till  she  fell  as  you 
see." 

Murray  instantly  supposed  that  she  had  discovered  the 
unknown  knight ;  and  looking  from  countenance  to  coun- 
tenance amongst  the  train  to  see  if  he  could  discover  the 
envied  cause  of  such  emotions,  he  read  in  no  face  an 
answering  feeling  with  that  of  Helen's,  and  turning  away 
from  his  unavailing  scrutiny,  on  hearing  her  draw  a  deep 
sigh,  his  eyes  fixed  themselves  on  her  as  if  they  would  have 
read  her  soul.  Wallace,  who  in  the  pale  form  before  him 
saw  not  only  the  woman  whom  he  had  preserved  with  a 
brother's  care,  but  the  compassionate  saint  who  had  given 
a  hallowed  grave  to  the  remains  of  an  angel  pure  as  herself, 
hung  over  her  with  an  anxiety  so  eloquent  in  every  feature 
that  the  countess  would  wiUingly  at  that  moment  have 
stabbed  her  in  every  vein. 

Lady  Ruthven  had  sprinkled  her  niece  with  water  ;  and 
as  she  began  to  recover,  Wallace  motioned  his  chieftains  to 
withdraw.  Her  eyes  opened  slowly ;  but  recollection  re- 
turned with  every  re-awakened  sense.  She  dimly  per- 
ceived a  press  of  people  around  her ;  and  fearful  of  again 
encountering  that  face  which  declared  the  Bruce  of  her 
secret  meditations  and  the  Wallace  of  her  declared  venera- 
tion to  be  one,  she  buried  her  face  in  the  bosom  of  her 
father.  In  that  short  point  of  time  images  of  past,  present, 
and  to  come  rushed  before  her  ;  and  without  confessing  to 
herself  why  she  thought  it  necessary  to  make  the  vow,  her 
soul  seemed  to  swear  on  the  sacred  altar  of  a  parent's  heart 
never  more  to  think  on  either  idea.  Separate,  it  was  sweet 
to  muse  on  her  own  deliverer;  it  was  delightful  to  dwell  on 
the  virtues  of  her  father's  preserver.  But  when  she  saw 
both  characters  blended  in  one,  her  feelings  seemed  sacri- 


3l6  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

lege ;  and  she  wished  even  to  bury  her  gratitude  where  no 
eye  but  Heaven's  could  see  its  depth  and  fervor. 

Trembling  at  what  might  be  the  consequences  of  this 
scene,  Lady  Mar  determined  to  hint  to  Wallace  that  Helen 
loved  some  unknown  knight ;  and  bending  to  her  daughter, 
she  said  in  a  low  voice,  yet  loud  enough  for  him  to  hear, 
"  Retire,  my  child  ;  you  will  be  better  in  your  own  room, 
whether  pleasure  or  disappointment  about  the  person  you 
wished  to  discover  in  Sir  William's  train  have  occasioned 
these  emotions." 

Helen  blushed  at  this  indelicate  remark ;  and  raismg  her 
head  with  that  modest  dignity  which  only  belongs  to  the 
purest  minds,  she  gently  but  firmly  said,  "  I  obey  you, 
madam  ;  and  he  whom  I  have  seen  will  be  too  generous 
not  to  pardon  the  effects  of  so  unexpected  a  weight  of  grati- 
tude." As  she  spoke,  her  turning  eye  met  the  fixed  gaze  of 
Wallace. 

His  countenance  became  agitated  ;  and  dropping  on  his 
knee  beside  her,  "  Gracious  lady,"  cried  he,  "  mine  is  the 
weight  of  gratitude !  But  it  is  dear  and  precious  to  me,  a 
debt  that  my  life  will  not  be  able  to  repay.  I  was  ignorant 
of  all  your  goodness,  when  we  parted  in  the  hermit's  cave  ; 
but  the  spirit  of  an  angel,  like  yourself,  Lady  Helen,  will 
whisper  to  you  all  her  widowed  husband's  thanks."  He 
pressed  her  hand  fervently  between  his,  and  rising,  left  the 
room. 

Helen  looked  on  him  with  an  immovable  eye,  in  which 
the  heroic  vow  of  her  soul  spoke  in  every  beam  ;  but  as  he 
arose,  even  then  she  felt  its  frailty,  for  her  spirit  seemed 
leaving  her,  and  as  he  disappeared  from  the  door  her  world 
seemed  shut  from  her  eyes.  Not  to  think  of  him  was  im- 
possible :  how  to  tliink  of  him  was  in  her  own  power.  Her 
heart  felt  as  if  suddenly  made  a  desert.  But  heroism  was 
there.  She  had  looked  upon  the  Heaven-dedicated  Wal- 
lace, on  the  widowed  mourner  of  Marion, — the  saint  and 
the  hero,  the  being  of  another  world ;  and  as  such  she 
would  regard  him,  till  in  the  realms  of  purity  she  might 
acknowledge  the  brother  of  her  soul.  A  sacred  inspiration 
seemed  to  illuminate  her  features,  and  to  brace  with  the 
vigor  of  immortality  those  limbs  which  before  had  sunk 
under  her.     She  forgot  she  was  still  of  earth,  while  a  holy 


THE  CITADEL.  317 

love,  like  that  of  the  dove  in  Paradise,  sat  brooding  on  her 
heart. 

Lady  Mar  gazed  on  her  without  understanding  the 
ethereal  meaning  of  those  looks.  Judging  from  her  own 
impassioned  feelings,  she  could  only  resolve  the  resplendent 
beauty  which  shone  from  the  now  animated  face  and  form 
of  Helen  into  the  rapture  of  finding  herself  beloved.  Had 
she  not  heard  Wallace  declare  himself  to  be  the  unknown 
knight  who  had  rescued  Helen  ?  She  had  heard  him  de- 
vote  his  life  to  her ;  and  was  not  his  heart  included  in  that 
dedication  1  She  had  then  heard  that  love  vowed  to 
another  which  she  would  have  sacrificed  her  soul  to  win  ! 

Murray  too  was  confounded ;  but  his  reflections  were  far 
different  from  those  of  Lady  Mar.  He  saw  his  newly- 
discovered  passion  smothered  in  its  first  breath.  At  the 
moment  in  which  he  found  that  he  loved  his  cousin  above 
all  of  woman's  mould,  an  unappealable  voice  in  his  bosom 
bade  him  crush  every  fond  desire.  That  heart  which  with 
the  chaste  transports  of  a  sister  had  throbbed  so  en- 
trancingly  against  his,  was  then  another's,  was  become  the 
captive  of  Wallace's  virtues,  —  of  the  only  man  whom  his 
judgment  would  have  said  deserves  Helen  Mar !  But  when 
he  clasped  her  glowing  beauties  in  his  arms  the  night 
before,  his  enraptured  soul  then  believed  the  tender  smile 
on  her  lips  was  only  the  earnest  of  the  moment  when  he 
might  hold  her  there  forever.  That  dream  was  now  past. 
"  Well,  be  it  so!"  said  he  to  himself;  "if  this  too  daring 
passion  must  be  clipped  on  the  wing,  I  have  at  least  the 
consolation  that  it  soared  like  the  bird  of  Jove  !  But, 
loveliest  of  created  beings  !  "  thought  he,  looking  on  Helen 
with  an  expression  which  had  she  met  it  would  have  told 
her  all  that  was  passing  in  his  soul,  '•  if  I  am  not  to  be  thy 
lover  I  will  be  thy  friend,  and  live  for  thee  and  Wallace ! " 

Believing  that  she  had  read  her  sentence  in  what  she 
thought  the  triumphant  glances  of  a  happy  passion,  Lady 
Mar  turned  from  her  daughter-in-law  with  such  a  hatred 
kindling  in  her  heart  she  durst  not  trust  her  eyes  to  the  in- 
spection of  the  by-standers.  But  her  tongue  could  not  be 
restrained  beyond  the  moment  in  which  the  object  of  her 
jealousy  left  the  room.  As  the  door  closed  upon  Helen, 
who  retired  leaning  on  the  arms  of  her  aunt  and  Edwin,  the 


3l8  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

countess  turned  to  her  lord.  His  eyes  were  looking  with 
doting  fondness  towards  the  point  where  Helen  withdrew. 
This  sight  augmented  the  angry  tumults  in  the  breast  of 
his  wife,  and  with  a  bitter  smile,  she  said,  "  So,  my  lord, 
you  find  the  icy-bosomed  Helen  can  be  thawed!" 

"How  do  you  mean,  Joanna?"  returned  the  earl,  doubt- 
ing her  words  and  her  looks ;  "  you  surely  cannot  blame 
our  daughter  for  being  sensible  of  gratitude  '^.  " 

"  I  blame  all  young  women,"  replied  she,  "  who  give  them- 
selves airs  of  unnatural  coldness ;  and  who,  when  the  proof 
comes,  behave  in  a  manner  as  indelicate  as  extraordinary." 

"My  Lady  Mar!"  ejaculated  the  earl,  with  an  amazed 
look,  "what  am  I  to  think  of  you  from  this.''  How  has  my 
daughter  behaved  indelicately  ?  She  did  not  lay  her  head 
on  Sir  William  Wallace's  bosom  and  weep  there,  till  he 
replaced  her  on  her  natural  pillow,  —  mine  !  Have  a  care, 
madam,  that  I  do  not  see  more  in  this  spleen  than  would 
be  honorable  to  you  for  me  to  discover." 

Fearing  nothing  so  much  as  that  her  husband  should 
really  suspect  the  passion  which  possessed  her,  and  so  re- 
move her  from  the  side  of  Wallace,  she  presently  recalled 
her  former  duplicity,  and  with  a  surprised  and  uncompre- 
hending air  rephed,  "  I  do  not  understand  what  you  mean, 
Donald."  And  then  turning  to  Lord  Ruthven,  who  stood 
uneasily  viewing  this  scene,  "How,"  cried  she,  "can  my 
lord  discover  spleen  in  my  maternal  anxiety  respecting  the 
daughter  of  the  man  I  love  and  honor  above  all  the  earth  t 
But  men  do  not  properly  estimate  female  reserve.  Any 
woman  would  say  with  me,  that  to  faint  at  the  sight  of 
Sir  William  Wallace  was  declaring  an  emotion  not  to  be 
revealed  before  so  large  a  company,  —  a  something  from 
which  men  might  not  draw  the  most  agreeable  inferences." 

"  It  only  declared  surprise,  madam,"  cned  Murray,  — 
"the  surprise  of  a  modest  and  ingenuous  mind,  that  did 
not  expect  to  recognize  its  mountain  friend  in  the  person  of 
the  protector  of  Scotland." 

Lady  Mar  put  up  her  lip  in  contempt,  and  turning  to  the 
still  silent  Lord  Ruthven,  again  addressed  him.  "  Step- 
mothers, my  lord,"  said  she,  "have  hard  duties  to  perform; 
and  when  we  think  we  fulfil  them  best,  our  husband  comes 
with  a  magician's  wand  and  turns  all  our  good  to  evil." 


THE   CITADEL.  319 

"  Array  your  good  in  a  less  equivocal  garb,  my  dear 
Joanna,"  answered  tlie  Earl  of  Mar,  rather  ashamed  of  the 
hasty  words  which  the  suspicion  of  a  moment  had  drawn 
from  his  lips ;  "  judge  my  child  by  her  usual  conduct,  and 
not  by  an  accidental  appearance  of  inconsistency,  and  I 
shall  ever  be  grateful  for  your  solicitude.  But  in  this 
instance,  though  she  might  betray  the  weakness  of  an 
enfeebled  constitution,  it  was  certainly  not  the  frailty  of  a 
love-sick  heart." 

"Judge  me  by  your  own  rule,  dear  Donald,"  said  she, 
blandishingly  kissing  his  forehead,  "  and  you  will  not  again 
wither  the  mother  of  your  boy  with  such  a  look  as  I  just 
now  received." 

Glad  to  see  this  reconciliation.  Lord  Ruthven  made  a 
sign  to  Murray,  and  they  withdrew  together. 

Meanwhile,  the  honest  earl  surrendering  his  whole  heart 
to  the  wiles  of  his  wife  poured  into  her  not  inattentive  ear  all 
his  wishes  for  Helen,  all  the  hopes  to  which  her  late  meet- 
ing with  Wallace  and  their  present  recognition  had  given 
birth.  "  I  had  rather  have  that  man  my  son,"  said  he,  "  than 
see  my  beloved  daughter  placed  on  an  imperial  throne." 

"I  do  not  doubt  it,"  thought  Lady  Mar;  "for  there  are 
many  emperors,  but  only  one  William  Wallace  !  "  However, 
her  sentiments  she  confined  to  herself,  neither  assenting 
nor  dissenting,  but  answering  so  as  to  secure  the  confidence 
by  which  she  hoped  to  traverse  his  designs. 

According  to  the  inconsistency  of  the  wild  passion  that 
possessed  her,  one  moment  she  saw  nothing  but  despair 
before  her,  and  in  the  next  it  seemed  impossible  that  Wal- 
lace should  in  heart  be  proof  against  her  tenderness  and 
charms.  She  remembered  Murray's  words,  that  he  was 
sent  to  set  her  free,  and  that  recollection  re-awakened  every 
hope.  Sir  William  had  placed  Lord  Mar  in  a  post  as  dan- 
gerous as  honorable.  Should  the  Southrons  return  in  any 
force  into  Scotland,  Stirling  would  be  one  of  the  first  places 
they  would  attack.  The  earl  was  brave,  but  age  had 
robbed  him  of  much  of  his  martial  vigor :  might  she  not 
then  be  indeed  set  free ;  and  might  not  Wallace,  on  such 
an  event,  mean  to  repay  her  for  all  those  sighs  he  now 
sought  to  repress  from  ideas  of  virtue,  —  which  she  could 
admire,  but  had  not  courage  to  imitate  ? 


320  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

These  wicked  meditations  passed  even  at  the  side  of  her 
husband  ;  and  with  a  view  to  further  every  wish  of  her 
intoxicated  imagination,  she  determined  to  spare  no  exer- 
tion to  secure  the  support  of  her  own  family,  which,  when 
agreeing  in  one  point,  was  the  most  powerful  of  any  in  the 
kingdom.  Her  father,  the  Earl  of  Strathearn,  was  now  a 
misanthropic  recluse  in  the  Orkneys,  —  she  therefore  did 
not  calculate  on  his  assistance  ;  but  she  resolved  on  re- 
questing Wallace  to  put  the  names  of  her  cousins  Athol 
and  Badenoch  into  the  exchange  of  prisoners,  for  by  their 
means  she  expected  to  accomplish  all  she  hoped.  On 
Mar's  probable  speedy  death  she  had  so  long  thought  that 
she  now  regarded  it  as  a  certainty,  and  so  pressed  forward 
to  the  fulfilment  of  her  love  and  ambition  with  as  much 
eagerness  as  if  he  were  already  in  his  grave. 

She  recollected  that  Wallace  had  not  this  time  thrown 
her  from  his  bosom  when  in  the  transports  of  her  joy  she 
cast  herself  upon  it;  he  had  only  gently  whispered,  "Be- 
ware, lady !  there  are  present  who  may  think  my  services 
too  richly  paid !  "  With  these  words  he  had  relinquished 
her  to  her  husband.  But  in  them  she  saw  nothing  inimical 
to  her  wishes,  —  it  was  a  caution,  not  a  reproof ;  and  had 
not  his  warmer  address  to  Helen  conjured  up  all  the  fiends 
of  jealousy,  she  would  have  been  perfectly  satistied  with 
these  grounds  of  hope. 

Eager,  therefore,  to  break  away  from  Lord  Mar's  projects 
relating  to  his  daughter,  at  the  first  decent  opportunity  she 
said,  "We  will  consider  more  of  this,  Donald.  I  now 
resign  you  to  the  duties  of  your  office,  and  shall  pay  mine 
to  our  dear  Helen." 

Lord  Mar  pressed  her  hand  to  his  lips,  and  they  parted. 

Prior  to  Wallace's  visit  to  the  citadel,  at  an  early  hour 
the  same  morning  a  list  of  the  noble  prisoners  was  put  into 
his  hand.  Edwin  pointed  to  the  name  of  Montgomery. 
"  That,"  said  he,  "  is  the  name  of  a  person  you  already 
esteem  ;  but  how  will  you  regard  him  when  I  tell  you  who 
he  was  ? " 

Wallace  turned  on  him  an  inquiring  look. 

"You  have  often  spoken  to  me  of  Sir  Gilbert  Ham- 
bledon." 

"  And  this  is  he  !  "  interrupted  Wallace. 


THE   CITADEL.  32 1 

Edwin  recounted  the  manner  of  the  earl  discovering  him- 
self, and  how  he  came  to  bear  that  title. 

Wallace  listened  in  silence,  and  as  his  young  friend 
ended,  sighed  heavily.  "  1  will  thank  him,"  was  all  he  said ; 
and  rising,  he  proceeded  to  the  chamber  of  Montgomery. 
Even  at  that  early  hour  it  was  filled  with  officers  come  to 
inquire  after  their  commander's  health.  Wallace  advanced 
to  the  couch,  and  the  Southrons  drew  back.  The  expres- 
sion in  his  countenance  told  the  earl  that  he  now  knew 
him. 

"  Noblest  of  Englishmen  !  "  cried  Wallace,  in  a  low  voice, 
"  I  come  to  express  a  gratitude  to  you  as  lasting  as  the 
memory  of  the  action  which  gave  it  birth.  Your  generous 
conduct  to  all  that  was  dearest  to  me  on  earth  was  that 
night,  in  the  garden  of  EUerslie,  witnessed  by  myself.  I 
was  in  the  tree  above  your  head ;  and  nothing  but  a  convic- 
tion that  I  should  embarrass  the  honor  of  my  wife's  protec- 
tor could  at  that  moment  have  prevented  my  springing 
from  my  covert  and  declaring  my  gratitude  on  the  spot. 
Receive  my  thanks  now,  inadequate  as  they  are  to  express 
all  I  feel.  But  you  offered  me  your  heart  on  the  field  of 
Cambus-Kenneth  ;  I  will  take  that  as  a  generous  intimation 
how  I  may  best  acknowledge  my  debt.  Receive  then  my 
never-dying  friendship,  the  eternal  gratitude  of  my  immortal 
spirit !  " 

The  answer  of  Montgomery,  by  presenting  the  tender 
form  of  his  wife  and  her  devoted  love  almost  visibly  before 
him,  nearly  forced  open  the  fountain  of  tears  which  he  had 
buried  deep  in  his  heart ;  and  rising  suddenly,  for  fear  his 
emotions  might  betray  themselves,  he  warmly  pressed  the 
hand  of  his  English  friend,  and  left  the  room. 

In  the  course  of  the  same  day  the  Southron  nobles  were 
transported  into  the  citadel;  and  the  family  of  Mar  re- 
moved from  the  fortress,  to  take  up  their  residence  in  the 
palace  of  Snawdoun. 

VOL.  I.  —  21 


322  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 


CHAPTER   XXXV. 

THE   CARSE   OF    STIRLING. 

THE  fame  of  these  victories,  the  seizure  of  Stirling, 
the  conquest  of  above  sixty  thousand  men,  and  the 
lord  warden  with  his  late  deputy  taken  prisoners,  —  all 
spread  through  the  country  on  the  wings  of  the  wind. 

Messengers  were  dispatched  by  Wallace,  not  only  to  the 
nobles  who  had  already  declared  for  the  cause  by  sending 
him  their  armed  followers,  but  to  the  clans  who  yet  stood 
irresolute.  But  to  the  chieftains  who  had  taken  the  side  of 
Edward  he  sent  no  exhortation  ;  and  when  Lord  Ruthven 
advised  him  to  do  so,  "  No,  my  lord,"  said  he,  "  we  must 
not  spread  a  snare  under  our  feet.  If  these  men  could  be 
affected  by  the  interest  of  their  country,  as  they  have  the 
power  to  befriend  her,  they  would  not  colleague  with  her 
enemies.  They  remember  her  happiness  under  the  rule  of 
our  Alexanders ;  they  see  her  sufferings  beneath  the  sway 
of  a  usurper,  —  and  if  they  can  know  these  things  and  re- 
quire arguments  to  bring  them  to  their  duty,  should  they 
then  come  to  it,  it  would  not  be  to  fulfil,  but  to  betray. 
Ours,  my  dear  Ruthven,  is  a  commission  from  Heaven  ; 
the  truth  of  our  cause  is  God's  own  signet,  and  is  so  clear 
that  it  need  only  be  seen  to  be  acknowledged.  All  honest 
minds  will  come  to  us  of  themselves;  and  those  who  are 
not  so  had  better  be  avoided,  than  shown  the  way  by 
which  treachery  may  effect  what  open  violence  cannot 
accomplish." 

This  reasoning,  drawn  from  the  experience  of  nature, 
neither  encumbered  by  the  subtilties  of  policy  nor  the 
sophistry  of  the  schools,  was  evident  to  every  understand- 
ing, and  decided  the  question. 

Lady  Mar,  unknown  to  any  one,  again  applied  to  her 
fatal  pen,  but  with  other  views  than  for  the  ruin  of  the 
cause  or  the  destruction  of  Wallace.  It  was  to  strengthen 
his  hands  with  the  power  of  all  her  kinsmen,  and  finally,  by 
the  crown  which  they  should  place  on  his  head,  exalt  her 


THE    CARSE   OF  STIRLING.  323 

to  the  dignity  of  a  queen.  She  wrote  first  to  John  Cum- 
min, Earl  of  Buchan,  enforcing  a  thousand  reasons  why  he 
should  now  leave  a  sinking  cause  and  join  the  rising  for- 
tunes of  his  country.     Said  she,  — 

"  You  see  that  the  happy  star  of  Edward  is  setting.  The 
King  of  France  not  only  maintains  possession  of  that  monarch's 
territory  of  Guienne,  but  he  holds  him  in  check  on  the  shores 
of  Flanders.  Baffled  abroad,  an  insurrection  awaits  him  at 
home;  the  priesthood,  whom  he  has  robbed,  cover  his  name 
with  anathemas  ;  the  nobles,  whom  he  has  insulted,  trample  on 
his  prerogative ;  and  the  people,  whose  privileges  he  has  in- 
vaded, call  aloud  for  redress.  The  proud  barons  of  England  are 
ready  to  revolt ;  and  the  lords  Hereford  and  Norfolk  —  those 
two  earls  whom,  after  madly  threatening  to  hang,'  he  sought  to 
bribe  to  their  allegiance  by  leaving  them  in  the  full  powers  of 
constable  and  mareschal  of  England,  —  are  conducting  them- 
selves with  such  domineering  consequence  that  even  the  Prince 
of  Wales  submits  to  their  directions,  and  the  throne  of  the  absent 
tyrant  is  shaken  to  its  centre. 

"  Sir  William  Wallace  has  rescued  Scotland  from  her  yoke. 
The  country  now  calls  for  her  ancient  lords,  —  those  who  made 
her  kings,  and  supported  them.  Come,  then,  my  cousin,  espouse 
the  cause  of  right,  —  the  cause  that  is  in  power,  the  cause  that 
may  aggrandize  the  house  of  Cummin  with  still  higher  dignities 
than  any  with  which  it  has  hitherto  been  honored." 

With  these  arguments,  and  with  others  more  adapted  to 
his  Belial  mind,  she  tried  to  bring  him  to  her  purpose ;  to 
awaken  what  ambition  he  possessed ;  and  to  entice  his 
baser  passions  by  offering  security  in  a  rescued  country  to 
the  indulgence  of  senses  to  which  he  had  already  sacrificed 
the  best  properties  of  man.  She  dispatched  her  letter  by  a 
messenger  whom  she  bribed  to  secrecy,  and  added  in  her 
postscript  that  "  the  answer  she  should  hope  to  receive 
would  be  an  offer  of  his  services  to  Sir  William  Wallace." 

1  Edward  intended  to  send  out  forces  to  Guienne  under  the  command 
of  Humphrey  Earl  of  Hereford  the  constable,  and  Roger  Earl  of  Xorfolk 
the  marshal  of  England,  when  these  two  powerful  nobles  refused  to  exe- 
cute his  commands.  A  violent  altercation  ensued  ;  and  the  king  in  the 
height  of  his  passion  exclaimed  to  the  constable,  "  Sir  Earl,  by  God,  you 
shall  either  go  or  hang  !  "  "  By  God,  Sir  King,"  replied  Hereford,  "  I 
will  neither  go  nor  hang!"  And  he  immediately  departed  with  the 
marshal  and  their  respective  trains. 


324  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

While  the  Countess  of  Mar  was  devising  her  plans,  —  for 
the  gaining  of  Lord  Buchan  was  only  a  preliminary  meas- 
ure, —  the  dispatches  of  Wallace  had  taken  effect.  Their 
simple  details  and  the  voice  of  fame  had  roused  a  general 
spirit  throughout  the  land ;  and  in  the  course  of  a  very 
short  time  after  the  different  messengers  had  left  Stirling, 
the  plain  around  the  city  was  covered  with  a  mixed  mul- 
titude. All  Scotland  seemed  pressing  to  throw  itself  at 
the  feet  of  its  preserver.  A  large  body  of  men  brought 
from  Mar  by  Murray,  according  to  his  uncle's  orders,  were 
amongst  the  first  encamped  on  the  Carse  ;  and  that  part  of 
Wallace's  own  particular  band  which  he  had  left  at  Dum- 
barton to  recover  of  their  wounds,  now,  under  the  command 
of  Stephen  Ireland,  rejoined  their  lord  at  Stirling. 

Neil  Campbell  the  brave  Lord  of  Loch-awe,  and  Lord 
Bothwell  the  father  of  Lord  Andrew  Murray,  with  a  strong 
reinforcement,  arrived  from  Argyleshire.  The  chiefs  of 
Ross,  Dundas,  Gordon,  Lockhart,  Scott,  Erskine,  Lindsay, 
Cameron,  and  of  almost  every  noble  family  in  Scotland, 
sent  their  sons  at  the  head  of  detachments  from  their  clans 
to  swell  the  victorious  ranks  of  Sir  William  Wallace. 

When  this  patriotic  host  assembled  on  the  Carse  of  Stirl- 
ing, every  inmate  of  the  city,  who  had  not  duty  to  confine 
him  within  the  walls,  turned  out  to  view  the  glorious  sight. 
Mounted  on  a  rising  ground,  they  saw  each  little  army, 
and  the  emblazoned  banners  of  all  the  chivalry  of  Scotland 
floating  afar  over  the  lengthened  ranks. 

At  this  moment  the  lines  which  guarded  the  outworks  of 
Stirling  opened  from  right  to  left,  and  discovered  Wallace 
advancing  on  a  white  charger.  When  the  conqueror  of 
Edward's  hosts  appeared,  —  the  deliverer  of  Scotland, — 
a  mighty  shout  from  the  thousands  around  rent  the  skies 
and  shook  the  earth  on  which  they  stood.  Wallace  raised 
his  helmet  from  his  brow,  as  by  an  instinctive  motion  every 
hand  bent  the  sword  and  banner  it  contained, 

"He  comes  in  the  strength  of  David ! "  cried  the  vener- 
able bishop  of  Dunkeld,  who  appeared  at  the  head  of  his 
church's  tenantry.     "  Scots,  behold  the  Lord's  anointed  !  " 

The  exclamation  which  burst  like  inspiration  from  the 
lips  of  the  bishop  struck  to  every  heart.  "  Long  live  King 
William !  "   was  echoed  with  transport  by  every  follower 


THE   CARSE   OF  STIRLING.  325 

on  the  ground  ;  and  while  the  reverberating  heavens  seemed 
to  ratify  the  voice  of  the  people,  the  lords  themselves,  be- 
lieving that  he  who  won  had  the  best  right  to  enjoy,  joined 
in  the  glorious  cry.  Galloping  up  from  the  front  of  their 
ranks,  they  threw  themselves  from  their  steeds ;  and  before 
Wallace  could  recover  from  the  surprise  into  which  this 
unexpected  salutation  had  thrown  him,  Lord  Bothwell  and 
Lord  Loch-awe,  followed  by  the  rest,  had  bent  their  knees 
and  acknowledged  him  to  be  their  sovereign.  The  bishop 
of  Dunkeld  at  the  same  moment  drawing  from  his  breast 
a  silver  dove  of  sacred  oil,  poured  it  upon  the  unbonneted 
head  of  Wallace.  "  Thus,  O  King !  "  cried  he,  "  do  I  con- 
secrate on  earth  what  has  already  received  the  unction  of 
Heaven ! " 

Wallace  at  this  action  was  awe-struck,  and  raising  his 
eyes  to  that  heaven,  his  soul  in  silence  breathed  its  unutter- 
able devotion.  Then  looking  on  the  bishop,  "  Holy  father," 
said  he,  "  this  unction  may  have  prepared  my  brows  for  a 
crown;  but  it  is  not  of  this  world.  Rise,  lords  !  "  and  as 
he  spoke  he  flung  himself  off  his  horse,  and  taking  Lord 
Bothwell  by  the  hand  as  the  eldest  of  the  band,  "  Kneel 
not  to  me,"  cried  he.  "  I  am  to  you  what  Gideon  was  to 
the  Israehtes,  —  your  fellow-soldier.  I  cannot  assume  the 
sceptre  you  would  bestow;  for  he  who  rules  us  all  has  yet 
preserved  to  you  a  lawful  monarch.  Bruce  lives ;  and 
were  he  extinct,  the  blood  royal  flows  in  too  many  noble 
veins  in  Scotland  for  me  to  usurp  its  rights." 

"  The  rights  of  the  crown  lie  with  the  only  man  in  Scot- 
land who  knows  how  to  defend  them,  else  reason  is  blind, 
or  the  people  abandon  their  own  prerogative !  What  we 
have  this  moment  vowed  is  not  to  be  forsworn.  Baliol  has 
abdicated  our  throne;  the  Bruce  desert  it;  all  our  nobles 
slept  till  you  awoke,  —  and  shall  we  bow  to  men  who  may 
follow,  but  will  not  lead  ?  No,  bravest  Wallace  !  from  the 
moment  you  drew  the  first  sword  for  Scotland,  you  made 
yourself  her  lawful  king." 

Wallace  turned  to  the  veteran  Lord  of  Loch-awe,  who 
uttered  this  with  a  blunt  determination  that  meant  to  say 
the  election  which  had  passed  should  not  be  recalled.  "  I 
made  myself  her  champion  to  fight  for  her  freedom,  not  my 
own  aggrandizement.     Were  I  to  accept  the  honor  with 


326  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

which  this  too  grateful  nation  would  repay  my  service,  1 
should  not  bring  it  that  peace  for  which  I  contend.  Strug- 
gling for  liberty,  the  toils  of  my  brave  countrymen  would  be 
redoubled  ;  for  they  would  have  to  maintain  the  rights  of  an 
unallied  king  against  a  host  of  enemies.  The  circumstance 
of  a  man  from  the  private  stations  of  life  being  elevated  to 
such  dignity  would  be  felt  as  an  insult  by  every  royal  house, 
and  foes  and  friends  would  arm  against  us.  On  these 
grounds  of  policy,  were  I  not  loyal  to  the  vows  of  my  ances- 
tors, I  should  repel  the  mischief  you  would  bring  upon  your- 
selves by  making  me  your  king;  as  it  is,  my  conscience  as 
well  as  my  judgment  compels  me  to  reject  it.  As  your 
general,  I  may  serve  you  gloriously  ;  as  your  monarch,  in 
spite  of  myself,  I  should  incur  your  ultimate  destruction." 

"  From  whom,  noblest  of  Scots .'' "  asked  the  Lord  of 
Bothwell. 

"  From  yourselves,  my  friends,"  answered  Wallace,  with 
a  gentle  smile.  "  Could  I  take  advantage  of  the  generous 
enthusiasm  of  a  grateful  nation ;  could  I  forget  the  duty 
I  owe  to  the  blood  of  our  Alexanders,  and  leap  into  the 
throne,  —  there  are  many  who  would  soon  revolt  against 
their  own  election.  You  cannot  be  ignorant  that  there  are 
natures  who  would  endure  no  rule,  did  it  not  come  by  the 
right  of  inheritance,  —  a  right  by  which  they  hold  their  own 
pre-eminence,  and  which  they  therefore  will  not  dispute, 
lest  they  teach  their  inferiors  the  same  refractory  lesson. 
But  to  bend  with  voluntary  subjection,  to  obey  a  power 
raised  by  themselves,  would  be  a  sacrifice  abhorrent  to 
their  pride.  After  having  displayed  their  efiiciency  in 
making  a  king,  they  would  prove  their  independence  by 
striving  to  pull  him  down  the  moment  he  made  them  feel 
his  sceptre.  Such  would  be  the  fate  of  this  election.  Jeal- 
ousies and  rebellions  would  mark  my  reign ;  till  even  my 
closest  adherents,  seeing  the  miseries  of  civil  war,  would 
fall  from  my  side,  and  leave  the  country  again  open  to  the 
inroads  of  her  enemies.  These,  my  friends  and  country- 
men, would  be  my  reasons  for  rejecting  the  crown,  did 
my  ambition  point  that  way.  But  as  I  have  no  joy  in 
titles,  no  pleasure  in  any  power  that  does  not  spring 
hourly  from  the  heart,  let  my  reign  be  in  your  bosoms; 
and  with  the  appellation  of  your  fellow-soldier,  your  friend, 


THE   CARSE   OF  STIRLING.  327 

I  will  fight  for  you,  I  will  conquer  for  you,  —  I  will  live 
or  die!" 

"This  man,"  whispered  Lord  Buchan,  who  having  ar- 
rived in  the  rear  of  the  troops  on  the  appearance  of  Wallace 
advanced  within  hearing  of  what  he  said,  — "  this  man 
shows  more  cunning  in  repulsing  a  crown  than  most  are 
capable  of  exerting  to  obtain  one." 

"  Ay,  but  let  us  see,"  returned  the  Earl  of  March,  who 
accompanied  him,  "  whether  it  be  not  Caesar's  coyness : 
he  thrice  refused  the  purple,  and  yet  he  died  emperor  of 
the  Romans ! " 

"  He  that  offers  me  a  crown,"  returned  Buchan,  "  shall 
never  catch  me  playing  the  coquette  with  its  charms.  I 
warrant  you  I  would  embrace  the  lovely  mischief  in  the 
first  presentation."  A  shout  rent  the  air.  "  What  is  that  ?  " 
cried  he,  interrupting  himself. 

"He  has  followed  your  advice,"  answered  March,  with 
a  satirical  smile ;  "  it  is  the  preliminary  trumpet  to  long  live 
King  William  the  Great !  " 

Lord  Buchan  spurred  forward  to  Scrymgeour,  whom  he 
knew,  and  inquired  where  the  new  king  was  to  be  crowned. 
"We  have  not  yet  to  thank  him  for  the  possession  of 
Scone!" 

"  True,"  cried  Sir  Alexander,  comprehending  this  remark ; 
"  but  did  Sir  William  Wallace  accept  the  prayers  of  Scot- 
land, neither  Scone  nor  any  other  spot  in  the  kingdom 
should  refuse  the  place  of  his  coronation." 

"  Not  accept  them  !  "  replied  Buchan ;  "  then  why  that 
shout  ?     Do  the  changelings  rejoice  in  being  refused  .-'  " 

"  When  we  cannot  gain  the  altitude  of  our  desires,"  re- 
turned the  knight,  "  it  is  yet  subject  for  thankfulness  that 
we  reach  a  step  towards  it.  Sir  William  Wallace  has  con- 
sented to  be  considered  as  the  Protector  of  the  kingdom  ; 
to  hold  it  for  the  rightful  sovereign,  under  the  name  of 
Regent." 

"Ay,"  cried  March,  "he  has  only  taken  a  mistress  in- 
stead of  a  wife ;  and  trust  me,  when  once  he  has  got  her 
into  his  arms  it  will  not  be  all  the  graybeards  in  Scotland 
that  can  wrest  her  thence  again.  I  marvel  to  see  how  men 
can  be  cajoled,  and  call  the  deception  virtue  ! " 

Scrymgeour  had  not  waited  for  this  reply  of  the  insolent 


328  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

earl ;  and  Buchan  answering  him,  "  I  care  not,"  cried  he ; 
"  whoever  keeps  my  castle  over  my  head  and  my  cellars 
full  is  welcome  to  reign  over  John  of  Buchan.  So  onward, 
my  gallant  Cospatrick,  to  make  our  bow  to  royalty  in 
masquerade  !  " 

When  these  scorners  approached,  they  found  Wallace 
standing  uncovered  in  the  midst  of  his  happy  nobles. 
There  was  not  a  man  present  to  whom  he  had  not  given 
proofs  of  his  divine  commission;  each  individual  was 
snatched  from  a  state  of  oppression  and  disgrace,  and 
placed  in  security  and  honor.  With  overflowing  gratitude 
they  all  thronged  around  him ;  and  the  young,  the  isolated 
Wallace,  found  a  nation  waiting  on  his  nod,  —  the  hearts 
of  half  a  million  of  people  offered  to  his  hand,  to  turn  and 
wind  them  as  he  pleased.  No  crown  sat  on  his  brows; 
but  the  bright  halo  of  true  glory  beamed  from  his  godlike 
countenance,  and  checked  the  arrogant  smiles  with  which 
the  haughty  March  and  the  voluptuous  Buchan  came  for- 
ward to  mock  him  with  their  homage. 

As  the  near  relations  of  Lady  Mar  he  received  them  with 
courtesy,  but  one  glance  of  his  eye  penetrated  to  the  hol- 
lowness  of  both ;  and  then  remounting  his  steed,  the  stir- 
rups of  which  were  held  by  Edwin  and  Ker,  he  touched  the 
head  of  the  former  with  his  hand :  "  Follow  me,  my  friend  ; 
I  now  go  to  pay  my  duty  to  your  mother.  For  you,  my 
lords,"  said  he,  turning  to  the  nobles  around,  "  I  shall  hope 
to  meet  you  at  noon  in  the  citadel,  where  we  shall  consult 
together  on  future  movements.  Nothing  with  us  can  be 
considered  as  won  till  all  is  gained." 

The  chieftains  with  bows  acquiesced  in  his  mandate,  and 
fell  back  towards  their  troops.  But  the  foremost  ranks  of 
those  brave  fellows,  having  heard  much  of  what  had  passed, 
were  so  inflamed  with  admiration  of  their  regent  that  they 
rushed  forward,  and  collecting  in  crowds  around  his  horse 
and  in  his  path,  some  pressed  to  kiss  his  hand  and  others 
his  garments;  while  the  rest  ran  in  his  way,  shouting  and 
calling  down  blessings  upon  him,  till  he  stopped  at  the  gate 
of  Snawdoun. 


SNAWDOUN.  329 


O^ 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

SNAWDOUN. 

|WING  to  the  multiplicity  of  affairs  which  engaged 
_  '  Wallace's  attention  after  the  capture  of  Stirhng,  the 
ladies  of  Mar  had  not  seen  him  since  his  first  visit  to  the 
citadel.  The  countess  passed  this  time  in  writing  her  des- 
patches to  the  numerous  lords  of  her  house,  both  in  Scot- 
land and  in  England ;  and  by  her  subtle  arguments  she 
completely  persuaded  her  husband  of  the  cogency  of  put- 
ting the  names  of  Lord  Athol  and  Lord  Badenoch  into  the 
list  of  noble  prisoners  he  should  request. 

When  this  was  proposed  to  Wallace,  he  recollected  the 
conduct  of  Athol  at  Montrose;  and  being  alone  with  Lord 
Mar,  he  made  some  objections  against  inviting  him  back 
into  the  country.  But  the  earl,  who  was  prepared  by  his 
wife  to  overcome  every  obstacle  in  the  way  of  her  kins- 
man's return,  answered  that  he  believed,  from  the  represen- 
tations he  had  received  of  the  private  opinions  both  of 
Badenoch  and  Athol,  that  their  treason  was  more  against 
Baliol  than  the  kingdom;  and  that  now  that  prince  was 
irretrievably  removed,  he  understood  they  would  be  glad  to 
take  a  part  in  its  recovery. 

"  That  may  be  the  case  with  the  Earl  of  Badenoch," 
replied  Wallace  ;  "  but  something  less  friendly  to  Scotland 
must  be  in  the  breast  of  the  man  who  could  betray  Lord 
Douglas  into  the  hands  of  his  enemies." 

"  So  I  should  have  thought,"  replied  the  earl,  "  had  not 
the  earnestness  with  which  my  wife  pleads  his  cause  con- 
vinced me  she  knows  more  of  his  mind  than  she  chooses  to 
intrust  me  with ;  and  therefore  I  suppose  his  conduct  to 
Douglas  arose  from  personal  pique." 

Though  these  explanations  did  not  at  all  raise  the  absent 
lords  in  his  esteem,  yet  to  appear  hostile  to  the  return  of 
Lady  Mar's  relations  was  a  violence  to  her  which  in  propor- 
tion as  Wallace  shrunk  from  the  guilty  affection  she  was 
eager  to  lavish  upon  him  he  was  averse  to  committing.    He 


330  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

wished,  by  showing  her  every  proper  respect,  to  lead  her 
to  apprehend  the  turpitude  of  her  conduct.  By  supposing 
that  his  abhorrence  of  her  advances  had  its  origin  in  prin- 
ciple rather  than  in  personal  repugnance  to  herself,  she 
might  see  the  foulness  of  her  crime  and  be  recalled  to  vir- 
tue. He  was  therefore  not  displeased  to  have  this  oppor- 
tunity of  obliging  her ;  and  as  he  hoped  that  amongst  so 
many  warm  friends  a  few  cool  ones  could  not  do  much 
injury,  he  gave  in  the  names  of  Badenoch  and  Athol  with 
those  of  Lord  Douglas,  Sir  William  Maitland  (the  only 
son  of  the  venerable  knight  of  Thirlestane),  Sir  John 
Monteith,  and  many  other  brave   Scots. 

For  these  the  earls  de  Warrene,  de  Valence,  and  Mont- 
gomery, Baron  Hilton,  and  others  of  note  were  to  be  ex- 
changed. Those  of  lesser  consequence,  man  for  man,  were 
to  be  returned  for  Scots  of  the  same  degree. 

In  arranging  preliminaries  to  effect  the  speedy  return  of 
the  Scots  from  England,  who  must  be  known  to  have  ar- 
rived on  the  borders  before  the  English  would  be  per- 
mitted to  re-cross  them ;  in  writing  dispatches  on  this 
subject,  and  on  others  of  equal  moment,  —  the  time  had 
passed  between  the  surrender  of  Stirling  and  the  hour  when 
Wallace  was  called  to  the  plain  to  receive  the  offered 
homage  of  his  grateful  country. 

Impatient  to  behold  again  the  object  of  her  fond  machina- 
tions. Lady  Mar  hastened  to  the  window  of  her  apartment 
when  the  shouts  in  the  streets  informed  her  of  the  approach 
of  Wallace.  The  loud  huzzas,  accompanied  by  the  accla- 
mations of  "  Our  Protector  and  Prince  !  "  seemed  already  to 
bind  her  brows  with  her  anticipated  diadem ;  and,  for  a 
moment,  vanity  lost  the  image  of  love  in  the  purple  with 
which  she  enveloped  it. 

Her  ambitious  vision  was  disturbed  by  the  crowd  rush- 
ing forward.  The  gates  were  thronged  with  people  of 
every  age  and  sex ;  and  Wallace  himself  appeared  on  his 
white  charger,  with  his  helmet  off,  bowing  and  smiling  upon 
the  populace.  There  was  a  mild  effulgence  in  his  eye,  a 
divine  benevolence  in  his  countenance,  as  his  parted  lips 
showed  the  brightness  of  his  smile,  which  seemed  to  speak 
of  happiness  within,  of  joy  to  all  around.  She  hastily 
snatched  a  chaplet  of  flowers  from  her  head  and  threw  it 


SNAWDOUN.  331 

from  the  window.  Wallace  looked  up  ;  his  bow  and  his 
smile  were  then  directed  to  her,  but  they  were  altered.  The 
moment  he  met  the  gratulation  of  her  eager  eyes,  he  re- 
membered what  would  have  been  the  soft  welcome  of  his 
Marion's  under  the  like  circumstance  ;  but  that  tender  eye 
was  closed,  that  ear  was  shut,  to  whom  he  would  have 
wished  these  plaudits  to  have  given  rapture,  and  they  were 
now  as  nothing  to  him.  The  countess  saw  not  what  was 
passing  in  his  mind,  but  kissing  her  hand  to  him  dis- 
appeared from  the  window  as  he  entered  the  palace. 

Another  eye  besides  Lady  Mar's  had  witnessed  the  tri- 
umphant entry  of  Wallace.  Triumphant  in  the  true  sense 
of  the  word,  for  he  came  a  victor  over  the  hearts  of  men; 
he  came,  not  attended  by  his  captives  won  in  the  war,  but 
by  the  people  he  had  blessed,  by  throngs  calling  him  pre- 
server, father,  friend,  and  prince,  —  by  every  title  which  can 
inspire  the  soul  of  man  with  the  happy  consciousness  of 
fulfilling  his  embassy  here  below. 

Helen  was  this  witness.  She  had  passed  the  long  inter- 
val since  she  had  seen  Wallace  in  the  state  of  one  in  a 
dream.  The  glance  had  been  so  transient  that  every  suc- 
ceeding hour  seemed  to  lessen  the  evidence  of  her  senses 
that  she  had  really  beheld  him.  It  appeared  impossible  to 
her  that  the  man  whom  her  thoughts  had  ever  dwelt  on  as 
the  widowed  husband  of  Marion,  as  the  hero  whom  sorrow 
had  wholly  dedicated  to  patriotism  and  to  Heaven,  should 
ever  awaken  in  her  breast  feelings  which  would  seem  to 
break  like  a  sacrilegious  host  upon  the  holy  consecration 
of  his.  Once  she  had  contemplated  his  image  with  the  pen- 
sive impressions  of  one  leaning  over  the  grave  of  a  hero ; 
then  she  would  turn,  as  if  emerging  from  the  glooms  of 
sepulchral  monuments  to  upper  day,  to  the  image  of  her 
unknown  knight :  she  would  recollect  the  matchless  graces 
of  his  figure,  the  noble  soul  that  breathed  from  his  every 
word  and  action,  and  the  sweet  though  thoughtful  serenity 
that  sat  on  his  brow.  "  There,"  whispered  she  to  herself, 
"  are  the  lofty  meditations  of  a  royal  mind  devising  the 
freedom  of  his  people  ;  when  that  is  effected,  how  will  the 
perfect  sunshine  break  out  from  that  face  !  Ah,  how  blest 
will  Scotland  be  under  his  reign,  when  all  will  be  light,  vir- 
tue, and  joy  i  "     Bliss  hovered  hke  an  angel  over  the  image 


332  THE    SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

of  Bruce,  while  sorrow  in  mourning  weeds  seemed  ever 
dropping  tears  when  any  circumstance  recalled  that  of 
Wallace. 

Such  was  the  state  of  Helen's  thoughts  when  in  the  mo- 
ment of  her  beholding  the  chief  of  Ellersiie  in  the  citadel 
she  recognized  in  his  expected  melancholy  form  the  re- 
splendent countenance  of  him  whom  she  supposed  the  prince 
of  Scotland.  That  two  images  so  opposite  should  at  once 
unite,  that  in  one  bosom  should  be  mingled  all  the  virtues 
she  had  believed  were  peculiar  to  each,  struck  her  with 
overwhelming  amazement.  But  when  she  recovered  from 
her  short  swoon,  and  found  Wallace  at  her  feet ;  when  she 
felt  that  all  the  devotion  her  heart  had  hitherto  paid  to  the 
simple  idea  of  virtue  alone  would  now  be  attracted  to  that 
glorious  mortal  in  whom  all  human  excellence  appeared 
summed  up, — she  trembled  under  an  emotion  that  seemed 
to  rob  her  of  herself,  and  place  a  new  principle  of  being 
within  her. 

All  was  so  extraordinary,  so  unlooked  for,  so  bewilder- 
ing, that  from  the  moment  she  retired  in  such  a  paroxysm 
of  highly  wrought  feelings  from  her  first  interview  in  the 
gallery  with  him,  she  was  altogether  like  a  person  in  a 
trance ;  and  hardly  answering  her  aunt  when  she  led  her 
up  the  stairs,  she  complained  she  was  ill,  and  threw  herself 
upon  a  couch. 

At  the  very  time  that  her  heart  told  her  in  a  language 
she  could  not  misunderstand  that  she  irrevocably  loved  this 
too  glorious,  too  amiable  Wallace,  it  as  powerfully  de- 
nounced to  her  that  she  had  devoted  herself  to  one  who 
would  ever  be  to  her  as  a  being  of  air.  No  word  of  sym- 
pathy would  ever  whisper  fehcity  to  her  heart ;  no !  the 
flame  that  was  within  her,  which  she  found  would  be  im- 
mortal as  the  vestal  fires  which  resembled  its  purity,  must 
burn  there  unknown, — hidden,  but  not  smothered. 

"  Were  this  a  god,"  cried  she  to  herself,  as  she  laid  her 
throbbing  head  upon  her  pillow,  "  how  gladly  should  I  feel 
these  emotions !  For  could  I  not  fall  down  and  worship 
him ;  could  I  not  think  it  a  world  of  bliss  to  live  forever 
within  the  influence  of  his  virtues, — looking  at  him,  listen- 
ing to  him,  rejoicing  in  his  praises,  happy  in  his  happiness, 
though  I  should  be  invisible,  and  he  not  know  that  Helen 


SNAWDOUN.  333 

Mar  even  existed  ?  And  I  may  live  thus,"  said  she ;  "  I 
may  steal  some  portion  of  the  rare  lot  that  was  Lady 
Marion's,  —  to  die  for  such  a  man !  Ah,  could  I  be  in 
Edwin's  place,  and  wait  upon  his  smiles  !  But  that  may 
not  be  :  I  am  a  woman,  and  formed  to  suffer  in  silence  and 
seclusion.  But  even  at  a  distance,  brave  Wallace,  my 
spirit  shall  watch  over  you  in  the  form  of  this  Edwin ;  I 
will  teach  him  a  double  care  of  the  light  of  Scotland.  And 
my  prayers  also  shall  follow  you  ;  so  that  when  we  meet  in 
heaven,  the  blessed  Virgin  shall  say  with  what  hosts  of 
angels  her  intercessions,  through  my  vigils,  have  surrounded 
you ! " 

Thus  did  Helen  commune  with  her  own  strangely  af- 
fected heart,  —  sometimes  doubting  the  evidence  of  her 
eyes,  then  convinced  of  their  fidelity,  and  striving  to  allay 
the  tumults  in  her  mind.  She  seldom  appeared  from  her 
own  rooms ;  and  such  retirement  was  not  questioned,  her 
father  being  altogether  engaged  at  the  citadel,  the  countess 
absorbed  in  her  own  speculations,  and  Lady  Ruthven  alone 
interrupting  the  solitude  of  her  niece  by  frequent  visits. 
Little  suspecting  the  cause  of  Helen's  prolonged  indisposi- 
tion, she  generally  selected  Wallace  for  the  subject  of  her 
conversation;  she  descanted  with  enthusiasm  on  the  rare 
perfection  of  his  character,  told  her  all  that  Edwin  had  re- 
lated of  his  actions  from  the  taking  of  Dumbarton  to  the 
present  moment,  and  then  bade  Helen  remark  the  miracle  of 
such  wisdom,  valor,  and  goodness  being  found  in  one  so 
young  and  handsome. 

"  Why,  my  dear,"  added  she,  "  depend  on  it,  before  he 
was  Lady  Marion's  husband  he  must  have  heard  sighs 
enough  from  the  love-sick  damsels  about  him  to  have  turned 
the  brains  of  half  the  male  world.  There  is  something  in 
his  very  look,  did  you  meet  him  on  a  heath  without  better 
garb  than  a  shepherd's  plaid,  sufficient  to  declare  him  the 
noblest  of  men,  and  which  would  excuse  the  gentlest  lady 
in  the  land  for  leaving  hall  and  bower  to  share  his  sheep- 
cote.  But,  alas !  "  and  then  the  playful  expression  of  her 
countenance  altered,  "he  is  now  for  none  on  earth !  " 

With  these  words  she  turned  the  subject  to  the  confiden- 
tial hours  which  he  had  passed  with  the  adopted  brother  of 
his  heart.     Every  fond  emotion  seemed  then  centred  in  his 


334  "^HE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS, 

wife  and  child.  When  Lady  Ruthven  repeated  his  pa- 
thetic words  to  Edwin,  she  wept,  —  she  even  sobbed,  and 
paused  to  recover ;  while  the  deep  and  silent  tears  which 
flowed  from  the  heart  to  the  eyes  of  Lady  Helen  bathed 
the  side  of  the  couch  on  which  she  leaned. 

"  Alas  !  "  cried  Lady  Ruthven,  "  that  a  man  so  formed 
to  grace  every  relation  in  life,  so  noble  a  creature  in  all 
respects,  so  fond  a  husband,  so  full  of  parental  tender- 
ness, —  that  he  should  be  deprived  of  the  wife  on  whom  he 
doted,  that  he  should  be  cut  off  from  all  hope  of  posterity, 
that  when  he  shall  die  nothing  will  be  left  of  William  Wal- 
lace, breaks  my  heart  !  " 

"  Ah,  my  aunt,"  cried  Helen,  raising  her  head  with  ani- 
mation, "will  he  not  leave  behind  him  the  liberty  of  Scot- 
land ?  That  is  an  offspring  worthy  of  his  godlike  soul !  " 

"  True,  my  dear  Helen  ;  but  had  you  ever  been  a  parent, 
you  would  know  that  no  achievements,  however  great,  can 
heal  the  wound  made  in  a  father's  heart  by  the  loss  of  a 
beloved  child;  and  though  Sir  William  Wallace  never  saw 
the  infant  ready  to  bless  his  arms,  yet  it  perished  in  the 
bosom  of  its  mother.  That  circumstance  must  redouble 
his  affliction :  horribly  does  it  enhance  the  cruelty  of  the 
deed ! " 

"  He  has  in  all  things  been  a  direful  sacrifice,"  returned 
Helen  ;  "  and  with  God  alone  dwells  the  power  to  wipe  the 
tears  from  his  heart." 

"  They  flow  not  from  his  eyes,"  answered  her  aunt ; 
"but  deep,  deep  is  the  grief  that  my  Edwin  says  is  settled 
there." 

While  Lady  Ruthven  was  uttering  these  words,  shouts  in 
the  streets  made  her  pause  ;  and  soon  recognizing  the  name 
of  Wallace  sounding  from  the  lips  of  the  rejoicing  multi- 
tude, she  turned  to  Helen.  "  Here  comes  our  deliverer  !  " 
said  she,  taking  her  by  the  hand ;  "  we  have  not  seen  him 
since  the  first  day  of  our  liberty.  It  will  do  you  good,  as  it 
will  me,  to  look  on  his  beneficent  face  !  " 

Helen  obeyed  the  impulse  of  her  aunt's  arm,  and  reached 
the  window  just  as  he  passed  the  court-yard.  Her  soul 
seemed  rushing  from  her  eyes.  "  Ah,  it  is  indeed  he !  " 
thought  she  ;  "  no  dream,  no  illusion,  but  his  very  self." 

Wallace  looked  up,  but  not  on  her  side  of  the  building. 


SNAWDOUN.  335 

—  it  was  to  the  window  of  Lady  Mar;  and  as  he  bowed,  he 
smiled.  All  the  charms  of  that  smile  struck  upon  the  soul 
of  Helen;  and  hastily  retreating,  she  sunk  breathless  into 
a  seat. 

"  Oh,  no  !  that  man  cannot  be  born  for  the  isolated  state 
I  have  just  lamented.  He  is  not  to  be  forever  cut  off  from 
communicating  that  happiness  to  which  he  would  give  so 
much  enchantment !  "  Lady  Ruthven  ejaculated  this  with 
fervor,  her  matron  cheeks  flushing  with  a  sudden  and  more 
forcible  admiration  of  the  person  and  mien  of  Wallace. 
"  There  was  something  in  that  smile,  Helen,  which  tells  me 
all  is  not  chilled  within.  And,  indeed,  how  should  it  be 
otherwise  ?  That  generous  interest  in  the  happiness  of  all, 
which  seems  to  flow  in  a  tide  of  universal  love,  cannot 
spring  from  a  source  incapable  of  dispensing  the  softer 
streams  of  it  again." 

Helen,  whose  well  poised  soul  was  not  affected  by  the 
agitations  of  her  body,  —  agitations  she  was  determined  to 
conquer,  —  calmly  answered :  "  Such  a  hope  little  agrees 
with  all  you  have  been  telling  me  of  his  conversations  with 
Edwin.  Sir  William  Wallace  will  never  love  woman  more  ; 
and  even  to  name  the  idea,  is  an  offence  against  the  sacred- 
ness  of  his  sorrow." 

"  Blame  me  not,  Helen,"  returned  Lady  Ruthven,  "  that 
I  forgot  probability  in  grasping  at  a  possibility  that  might 
give  me  such  a  nephew  as  Sir  William  Wallace,  and  you  a 
husband  worthy  of  your  merits  !  I  had  always  in  my  own 
mind  fixed  on  your  unknown  knight  for  your  future  lord ;  and 
now  that  I  find  he  and  the  deliverer  of  Scotland  are  one,  I 
am  not  to  be  looked  grave  at  for  wishing  to  reward  him  with 
the  most  precious  heart  that  ever  beat  in  a  female  breast." 

"  No  more  of  this,  if  you  love  me,  my  dear  aunt ! "  re- 
turned Helen ;  "  it  neither  can  nor  ought  to  be.  I  revere 
the  memory  of  Lady  Marion  too  much  not  to  be  agitated 
by  the  subject ;  so,  no  more  !  "     She  was  agitated. 

At  that  instant  Edwin  throwing  open  the  door,  put  an 
end  to  the  conversation.  He  came  to  apprise  his  mother 
that  Sir  William  Wallace  was  in  the  state  apartments,  being 
come  purposely  to  pay  his  respects  to  her,  not  having  even 
been  introduced  to  her  when  the  illness  of  Helen  in  the 
castle  had  made  them  part  so  abruptly. 


336  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

"  I  will  not  interrupt  his  introduction  now,"  said  Helen, 
with  a  faint  smile ;  "  a  few  days'  retirement  will  strengthen 
me,  and  then  I  shall  see  our  protector  as  I  ought." 

"  I  will  stay  with  you,"  cried  Edwin ;  "  and  I  dare  say 
Sir  William  Wallace  will  have  no  objection  to  see  my 
mother  as  soon  as  possible ;  for  as  I  came  along  I  met  my 
aunt  Mar  hastening  through  the  gallery,  and  between  our- 
selves, my  sweet  coz,  I  do  not  think  my  noble  friend  quite 
likes  a  private  conference  with  your  fair  step-mother." 

Lady  Ruthven  had  withdrawn  before  he  made  this 
observation. 

"  Why,  Edwin  ?  Surely  she  would  not  do  anything  un- 
gracious to  one  to  whom  she  has  acknowledged  such  a 
weight  of  obligation!"  When  Helen  asked  this,  she  re- 
membered the  spleen  Lady  Mar  had  once  cherished  against 
Wallace,  and  she  feared  that  it  might  now  have  revived. 

"  Ungracious  !  Oh,  no !  the  reverse  of  that.  But  her 
gratitude  is  full  of  absurdity.  I  need  not  repeat  the  fooler- 
ies with  which  she  sought  to  detain  him  at  Bute.  Some 
new  fancy  respecting  him  must  now  be  disturbing  her  rest 
and  his  patience ;  for  in  my  way  hither  I  met  her  hastening 
along,  and  as  she  passed  me  she  exclaimed, '  Is  Lord  Buchan 
arrived  .? '  I  answered,  '  Yes.'  '  Ah,  then  he  has  made  him 
king  ! '  cried  she ;  and  into  the  great  gallery  she  darted." 

"  You  do  not  mean  to  say,"  demanded  Helen,  turning  her 
eyes  with  an  expression  which  seemed  confident  of  his 
answer,  "that  Sir  William  Wallace  has  accepted  the  crown 
of  Scotland  ? " 

"  Certainly  not,"  replied  Edwin ;  "  but  as  certainly  it  has 
been  offered  to  him,  and  he  has  refused  it." 

"  I  could  have  sworn  it !  "  returned  Helen,  rising  from 
her  chair.  "  All  is  loyal,  all  is  great  and  consistent  there, 
Edwin  ! " 

"  He  is  indeed  the  perfect  exemplar  of  all  nobleness  ! " 
rejoined  Edwin ;  "  and  I  believe  I  shall  even  love  you 
better,  my  dear  cousin,  because  you  seem  to  have  so  clear 
an  apprehension  of  his  real  character." 

He  then  proceeded,  with  all  the  animation  of  the  most 
zealous  affection,  to  narrate  to  Helen  the  particulars  of  the 
late  scene  on  the  Carse  of  Stirling ;  and  while  he  deepened 
still  more  the  profound  impression  the  virtues  of  Wallace 


SNAWDOUN.  337 

had  made  on  her  heart,  he  re-opened  its  more  tender  sym- 
pathies by  repeating,  with  even  minuter  accuracy  than  he 
had  done  to  his  mother,  details  of  those  hours  which  lie 
passed  with  him  in  retirement.  He  spoke  of  the  beacon- 
hill;  of  moonlight  walks  in  the  camp,  when  all  but  the 
sentinels  and  his  general  and  himself  were  sunk  in  sleep. 
These  were  the  seasons  when  the  suppressed  feelings  of 
Wallace  would  by  fits  break  from  his  lips,  and  at  last  pour 
themselves  out  unrestrainedly  to  the  ear  of  sympathy. 

As  the  young  narrator  described  all  the  endearing  quali- 
ties of  his  friend,  the  cheerful  heroism  with  which  he 
quelled  every  tender  remembrance  to  do  his  duty  in  the 
day,  —  "  For  it  is  only  in  the  night,"  said  Edwin,  "  that  my 
general  remembers  Ellerslie,"  —  Helen's  tears  again  stole 
silently  down  her  cheeks.  Edwin  perceived  them,  and 
throwing  his  arms  gently  around  her,  "  Weep  not,  my  sweet 
cousin,"  said  he,  "  for  with  all  his  sorrow,  I  never  saw  true 
happiness  till  I  beheld  it  in  the  eyes  and  heard  it  in  the 
voice  of  Sir  William  Wallace.  He  has  talked  to  me  of  the 
joy  he  should  experience  in  giving  liberty  to  Scotland  and 
establishing  her  peace,  till  his  enthusiastic  soul,  grasping 
hope  as  if  it  were  possession,  he  has  looked  on  me  with  a  con- 
sciousness of  enjoyment  which  seemed  to  say  that  all  bliss 
was  summed  up  in  a  patriot's  breast.  And  at  other  times, 
when  after  a  conversation  on  his  beloved  Marion  a  few 
natural  regrets  would  pass  his  lips,  and  my  tears  tell  how 
deep  was  my  sympathy,  then  he  would  turn  to  comfort  me ; 
then  he  would  show  me  the  world  beyond  this,  —  that  world 
which  is  the  aim  of  all  his  deeds,  the  end  of  all  his  travails, 
—  and  lost  in  the  rapturous  ideas  of  meeting  his  Marion 
there,  a  foretaste  of  all  would  seem  to  seize  his  soul.  And 
were  I  then  called  upon  to  point  out  the  most  enviable 
felicity  on  earth,  I  should  say  it  is  that  of  Sir  William 
Wallace.  It  is  this  enthusiasm  in  all  he  believes  and  feels 
that  makes  him  what  he  is ;  it  is  this  eternal  spirit  of  hope, 
infused  into  him  by  Heaven  itself,  that  makes  him  rise 
from  sorrow  like  the  sun  from  a  cloud,  brighter  and  with 
more  ardent  beams;  it  is  this  that  bathes  his  lips  in  the 
smiles  of  Paradise,  that  throws  a  divine  lustre  over  his 
eyes,  and  makes  all  dream  of  love  and  happiness  that  look 
upon  him."    Edwin  paused.    "  Is  it  not  so,  my  cousin?" 

VOL.   I.  —  22 


338  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

Helen  raised  her  thoughtful  face.  "He  is  not  a  being 
of  this  earth,  Edwin.  We  must  learn  to  imitate  him,  as 
well  as  to  — "  She  hesitated,  and  then  added,  "as  well  as 
to  revere  him.  I  do  revere  him,  with  such  a  sentiment  as 
fills  my  heart  when  I  bend  before  the  altars  of  the  saints. 
But  not  to  worship,"  said  she,  interrupting  herself ;  "  that 
would  be  a  crime.  To  look  on  him  as  a  glorious  exam- 
ple of  patient  suffering  and  of  invincible  courage  in  the 
behalf  of  truth  and  mercy,  —  this  is  the  end  of  my  rever- 
ence of  him.  And  this  sentiment,  my  dear  Edwin,  you 
partake .'' " 

"  It  possesses  me  wholly,"  cried  the  energetic  youth. 
"  I  have  no  thought,  no  wish,  nor  ever  move  or  speak,  but 
with  the  intent  to  be  like  him.  He  calls  me  his  brother, 
and  I  will  be  so  in  soul  though  I  cannot  in  blood ;  and 
then,  my  dear  Helen,  you  shall  have  two  Sir  William 
Wallaces  to  love  !  " 

"  Sweetest,  sweetest  boy ! "  cried  Helen,  putting  her 
quivering  lips  to  his  forehead ;  "  you  will  then  always 
remember  that  Helen  so  dearly  loves  Scotland  as  to  be 
jealous,  above  all  earthly  things,  for  the  Lord  Regent's 
safety.  Be  his  guardian  angel.  Beware  of  treason  in  man 
and  woman,  friend  and  kindred  :  it  lurks,  my  cousin,  under 
the  most  specious  forms.  And  as  one,  mark  Lord  Buchan ; 
in  short,  have  a  care  of  all  whom  any  of  the  house  of  Cum- 
min may  introduce.  Watch  over  your  general's  life  in  the 
private  hour.  It  is  not  the  public  field  I  fear  for  him, — 
his  valiant  arm  will  there  be  his  own  guard ;  but  in  the  un- 
reserved day  of  confidence  envy  will  point  its  dagger,  and 
then  be  as  eyes  to  his  too  trusting  soul,  as  a  shield  to  his 
too  confidently  exposed  breast !  " 

As  she  spoke,  she  strove  to  conceal  her  too  eloquent  face 
in  the  silken  ringlets  of  her  hair. 

"  I  will  be  all  this ! "  cried  Edwin,  who  saw  nothing  in 
her  tender  solicitude  but  the  ingenuous  affection  which 
glowed  in  his  own  heart.  "  And  I  will  be  your  eyes  too, 
my  cousin ;  for  when  I  am  absent  with  Sir  William  Wal- 
lace, I  shall  consider  myself  as  your  representative,  and  so 
will  send  you  regular  dispatches  of  all  that  happens  to 
him." 

Thanks  would  have  been  a  poor  means  of  impartmg 


STIRLING   CASTLE.  339 

what  she  felt  at  this  assurance ;  and  rising  from  her  seat 
with  some  of  Wallace's  own  resigned  and  enthusiastic  ex- 
pression in  her  face,  she  pressed  Edwin's  hand  to  her 
heart,  and  bowing  her  head  to  him  in  token  of  gratitude, 
withdrew  into  an  inner  apartment. 


CHAPTER   XXXVII. 

STIRLING   CASTLE  :   THE   COUNCIL   HALL. 

THE  countess's  chivalric  tribute  from  the  window  gave 
Wallace  reason  to  anticipate  her  company  in  his  visit 
to  Lady  Ruthven ;  and  on  finding  the  room  vacant  he  dis- 
patched Edwin  for  his  mother,  that  he  might  not  be  dis- 
tressed by  the  unchecked  advances  of  a  woman  whom  as 
the  wife  of  Lord  Mar  he  was  obliged  to  see,  and  whose 
weakness  he  pitied,  as  she  belonged  to  a  sex  for  which  — 
in  consideration  of  the  felicity  once  bestowed  on  him  by 
woman —  he  felt  a  peculiar  tenderness.  Respect  the  coun- 
tess he  could  not ;  nor  indeed  could  he  feel  any  gratitude 
for  a  preference  which  seemed  to  him  to  have  no  founda- 
tions in  the  only  true  basis  of  love,  —  the  virtues  of  the 
object.  For  as  she  acted  against  every  moral  law,  and 
against  his  declared  sentiments,  it  was  evident  that  she 
placed  litde  value  on  his  esteem  ;  and  therefore  he  despised 
while  he  pitied  a  human  creature  ungovernably  yielding 
herself  to  the  sway  of  her  passions. 

In  the  midst  of  thoughts  so  little  to  her  advantage.  Lady 
Mar  entered  the  room.  Wallace  turned  to  meet  her,  while 
she,  hastening  towards  him  and  dropping  on  one  knee, 
exclaimed,  "  Let  me  be  the  first  woman  in  Scotland  to 
acknowledge  its  kmg !  " 

Wallace  put  forth  his  hand  to  raise  her,  and,  smiling,  re- 
plied :  "  Lady  Mar,  you  do  me  an  honor  I  can  never  claim. 
I  am  not  King  of  Scotland." 

"How!"  cried  she,  starting  on  her  feet:  "What  then 
was  that  cry  I  heard  ?  Did  they  not  call  you  prince  and 
sovereign?      Did   not    my    Lord    Buchan  — "      Confused, 


340  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

disappointed,  overpowered,  she  left  the  sentence  unfinished, 
sunk  on  a  seat,  and  burst  into  tears.  At  that  moment  she 
saw  her  anticipated  crown  fall  from  her  head ;  and  having 
united  the  gaining  of  Wallace  with  his  acquisition  of  this 
dignity,  all  her  hopes  seemed  again  the  sport  of  winds. 
She  felt  as  if  Wallace  had  eluded  her  power,  for  it  was  by 
the  ambition-serving  acts  of  her  kinsman  that  she  had 
meant  to  bind  him  to  her  love ;  and  now  all  was  rejected, 
and  she  wept  in  despair. 

Wallace  gazed  at  her  with  amazement.  What  these  emo- 
tions and  his  elevation  had  to  do  with  each  other  he  could 
not  guess ;  but  recollecting  her  manner  of  mentioning  Lord 
Buchan's  name,  he  answered,  "Lord  Buchati  I  have  just 
seen.  He  and  Lord  March  came  upon  the  Carse  at  the 
time  I  went  thither  to  meet  my  gallant  countrymen  ;  and 
these  two  noblemen,  though  so  lately  the  friends  of  Edward, 
united  with  the  rest  in  proclaiming  me  Regent." 

This  word  dried  the  tears  of  Lady  Mar.  She  saw  the 
shadow  of  royalty  behind  it ;  and  summoning  that  artifice, 
so  ready  at  her  command,  to  conceal  the  joy  of  her  heart, 
she  calmly  said,  "  Do  not  too  severely  condemn  this  weak- 
ness :  it  is  not  that  of  vain  wishes  for  your  aggrandizement. 
You  are  the  same  to  Joanna  Mar  whether  as  a  monarch  or 
a  private  man,  as  long  as  you  possess  that  supremacy  in 
all  excellence  which  first  gained  her  esteem.  It  is  for 
Scotland's  sake  alone  that  I  wish  you  were  her  king.  You 
have  taught  me  to  forget  all  selfish  desires,  to  respect  my- 
self," cried  she;  "and  from  this  hour  I  conjure  you  to 
regard  me  as  a  sister !  Wipe  from  your  memory  all  my 
folly,  all  my  love  —  "  With  the  last  word  her  bosom 
heaved  tumultuously,  and  she  rose  in  agitation. 

Wallace  now  gazed  on  her  with  redoubled  wonder.  She 
saw  it;  and  hearing  a  foot  in  the  passage  she  turned 
towards  him,  and,  grasping  his  hand,  said  in  a  soft  and 
hurried  tone,  "  Forgive  that  what  is  entwined  with  my 
heart  should  cost  me  some  pangs  to  wrest  thence  again ; 
only  respect  me,  and  I  am  comforted  !  " 

Wallace  in  silence  pressed  her  hand,  and  the  door 
opened.  Lady  Ruthven  entered.  The  countess,  whose 
present  aim  was  to  throw  the  virtue  of  Wallace  off  its 
guard,  and  to  take  that  by  sap  which  she  found  resisted 


STIRLING   CASTLE.  34 1 

open  attack,  with  a  penitential  air  disappeared  by  another 
passage. 

Edwin's  gentle  mother  was  followed  by  the  same  youth 
who  had  brought  Helen's  packet  to  Berwick.  It  was  Wal- 
ter Hay,  anxious  to  be  recognized  by  his  benefactor,  to 
whom  his  recovered  health  had  rendered  his  person  strange. 
Wallace  received  him  witli  kindness,  and  told  him  to  bear 
his  grateful  respects  to  his  lady  for  her  care  of  her  charge. 
Lord  Ruthven,  with  others,  soon  entered ;  and  at  the  ap- 
pointed hour  they  attended  their  chief  to  the  citadel. 

The  council  hall  was  already  filled  with  the  lords  who 
had  brought  their  clans  to  the  Scottish  standard.  On  the 
entrance  of  Wallace,  they  rose  ;  and  Mar  coming  forward, 
followed  by  the  heralds  and  other  officers  of  ceremony, 
saluted  him  with  the  due  forms  of  regent,  and  led  him  to 
the  throne. 

Wallace  ascended;  but  it  was  only  to  take  thence  a 
packet  which  had  been  deposited  for  him  on  its  cushion, 
and  coming  down  again  he  laid  the  parchment  on  the 
council  table.  "  I  can  do  all  things  best,"  said  he,  "  when 
I  am  upon  a  level  with  my  friends."  He  then  broke  the 
seal  of  the  packet.  It  was  from  the  Prince  of  Wales,  and 
agreed  to  Wallace's  proposed  exchange  of  prisoners,  but 
denounced  him  as  the  instigator  of  rebellion,  and  bade  him 
expect  future  judgment  from  his  incensed  king  for  the  mis- 
chief he  had  wrought  in  the  realm  of  Scotland.  The  letter 
was  finished  by  a  demand  that  the  town  and  citadel  of 
Berwick  should  be  surrendered  to  England  as  a  gage  for 
the  quiet  of  the  borders  till  Edward  should  return. 

Kirkpatrick  scoffed  at  the  audacious  threatenings  of  the 
young  prince.  "  He  should  come  amongst  us,  like  a  man," 
cried  he,  "  and  we  would  soon  show  him  who  it  is  that 
works  mischief  in  Scotland.  Ay,  even  on  his  back  we 
would  write  the  chastisement  due  to  the  offender." 

"  Be  not  angry  with  him,  my  friend,"  returned  Wallace  ; 
"  these  threats  are  words  of  course  from  the  son  of  Edward. 
Did  he  not  fear  both  our  rights  and  our  arms,  he  would 
not  so  readily  accord  with  our  propositions.  You  see  every 
Scottish  prisoner  is  to  be  on  the  borders  by  a  certain  day  ;  • 
and  to  satisfy  thai  impatient  valor,  which  I  never  check 
but  when  it  loses  itself  in  a  furor  too  nearly  resembling 


342  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

that  of  our  enemies,  I  intend  to  make  your  prowess  once 
again  the  theme  of  their  discourse.  You  shall  retake  your 
castles  in  Annandale." 

"  Give  me  but  the  means  to  recover  those  stout  gates  of 
my  country,"  cried  Kirkpatrick,  "  and  I  will  warrant  you 
to  keep  the  keys  in  my  hands  till  doomsday  !  " 

Wallace  resumed ;  "  Three  thousand  men  are  at  your 
command.  When  the  prisoners  pass  each  other  on  the 
Cheviots,  the  armistice  will  terminate.  You  may  then  fall 
back  upon  Annandale,  and  that  night  light  your  own  fires 
in  Torthorald.  Send  the  expelled  garrisons  into  North- 
umberland ;  and  show  this  haughty  prince  that  we  know 
how  to  replenish  his  depopulated  towns." 

"  But  first  I  will  set  my  mark  on  them  ! "  cried  Kirk- 
patrick, with  one  of  those  laughs  which  ever  preluded  some 
savage  proposal. 

"  I  can  guess  it  would  be  no  gentle  one,"  returned  Wal- 
lace. "  Why,  brave  knight,  will  you  ever  sully  the  fair 
field  of  your  fame  with  an  ensanguined  tide  ?  " 

"  It  is  the  fashion  of  the  times,"  replied  Kirkpatrick, 
roughly.  "  You  only,  my  victorious  general,  who  perhaps 
had  most  cause  to  go  with  the  stream,  have  chosen  a  path 
of  your  own.  But  look  around  !  See  our  burns,  which 
the  Southrons  made  run  with  Scottish  blood  ;  our  hillocks, 
swoln  with  the  cairns  of  our  slain ;  the  highways  blocked 
up  with  the  graves  of  the  murdered  ;  and  our  lands  filled 
with  maimed  vassals,  who  purchased  life  of  our  ruthless 
tyrants  by  the  loss  of  eyes  and  of  limbs,  —  and  shall  we  talk 
of  gentle  methods  with  the  perpetrators  of  these  horrors  ? 
Sir  William  Wallace,  you  would  make  women  of  us  !  " 

"  Shame,  shame,  Kirkpatrick  !  "  resounded  from  every 
voice  ;  "  you  insult  the  regent !  " 

Kirkpatrick  stood  proudly,  frowning,  with  his  left  hand 
on  the  hilt  of  his  sword. 

Wallace  by  a  motion  hushed  the  tumult,  and  spoke : 
"  No  chieftain  of  Scotland  can  offer  me  greater  respect 
than  frankly  to  trust  me  with  his  sentiments." 

"  Though  we  disagree  in  some  points,"  cried  Kirkpatrick, 
"  I  am  ready  to  die  for  you  at  any  time ;  for  I  believe  a 
truer  Scot  treads  not  the  earth.  But  I  repeat,  why  by  this 
mincing  mercy  seek  to  turn  your  soldiers  into  women  ?  " 


STIRLING   CASTLE.  343 

"  I  seek  to  make  them  men,"  replied  Wallace ;  "  to  be 
aware  that  they  fight  with  fellow-creatures,  with  whom  they 
may  one  day  be  friends,  and  not  like  the  furious  savages 
of  old  Scandinavia,  drink  the  blood  of  eternal  enmity.  I 
would  neither  have  my  chieftains  set  examples  of  cruelty, 
nor  degrade  themselves  by  imitating  the  barbarities  of  our 
enemies.  That  Scotland  bleeds  at  even,'  pore  is  true  ;  but 
let  peace  be  our  aim,  and  we  shall  heal  all  her  wounds." 

"  Then  I  am  not  to  cut  off  the  ears  of  the  freebooters  in 
Annandale  ? "  cried  Kirkpatrick,  with  a  good-humored 
smile.  "  Have  it  as  you  will,  my  general ;  only,  you  must 
new  christen  me,  to  wash  the  war-stain  from  my  hand. 
The  rite  of  my  infancy  was  performed  as  became  a  soldier's 
son ;  my  fount  was  my  father's  helmet,  and  the  first  pap  I 
sucked,  was  from  the  point  of  his  sword."  ^ 

"  You  have  not  shamed  your  nurse  !  "  cried  Murray. 

"  Nor  will  I,"  answered  Kirkpatrick,  "  while  the  arm 
that  slew  Cressingham  remains  unwithered." 

While  he  spoke,  Ker  entered  to  ask  permission  to  intro- 
duce a  messenger  from  Earl  de  Warenne.  Wallace  gave 
consent.  It  was  Sir  Hugh  le  de  Spencer,  a  near  kinsman 
of  the  Earl  of  Hereford,  the  tumultuary  constable  of  Eng- 
land. He  was  the  envoy  who  had  brought  the  Prince  of 
Wales's  dispatches  to  Stirling.  Wallace  was  standing 
when  he  entered,  and  so  were  the  chieftains ;  but  at  his 
appearance  they  sat  down.     Wallace  retained  his  position. 

"  I  come,"  cried  the  Southron  knight,  "  from  the  lord 
warden  of  Scotland,  who,  like  my  prince,  too  greatly  con- 
descends to  do  otherwise  than  command  where  now  he 
treats.  I  come  to  the  leader  of  this  rebellion,  William 
Wallace,  to  receive  an  answer  to  the  terms  granted  by  the 
clemency  of  my  master,  the  son  of  his  liege  lord,  to  this 
misled  kingdom." 

"Sir  Knight,"  replied  Sir  William  Wallace,  "when  the 
Southron  lords  delegate  a  messenger  to  me  who  knows 
how  to  respect  the  representative  of  the  nation  to  which  he 

1  All  who  are  conversant  with  the  traditionary  accounts  of  the  ancient 
Scottish  manners  must  be  well  acquainted  with  these  barbarous  customs. 
They  were  employed  to  perpetuate  a  ferocity  against  their  enemies  simi- 
lar to  that  which  was  inculcated  by  resembling  means  into  the  young 
Hannibal. 


344  "^^^  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

is  sent  and  the  agents  of  his  own  country,  I  shall  give  them 
my  reply.     You  may  withdraw." 

The  Southron  stood  resolute  to  remam  where  he  was. 
"  Do  you  know,  proud  Scot,"  cried  he,  "  to  whom  you  dare 
address  this  imperious  language  ?  I  am  the  nephew  of  the 
lord  high-constable  of  England." 

"  It  is  pity,"  cried  Murray,  looking  coolly  up  from  the 
table,  "  that  he  is  not  here  to  take  his  kinsman  into 
custody ! " 

Le  de  Spencer  fiercely  half  drew  his  sword.  "  Sir,  this 
insult  —  " 

"  Must  be  put  up  with,"  cried  Wallace,  interrupting  him, 
and  motioning  Edwin  to  lay  his  hand  on  the  sword.  "  You 
have  insulted  the  nation  to  which  you  were  sent  on  a  peace- 
ful errand;  and  having  thus  invited  the  resentment  of  every 
chief  here  present,  you  cannot  justly  complain  against  their 
indio-nation.  But  in  consideration  of  your  youth  and  prob- 
able ignorance  of  what  becomes  the  character  of  an  em- 
bassador, I  grant  you  the  protection  your  behavior  has 
forfeited.  Sir  Alexander  Scrymgeour,"  said  he,  turning  to 
him,  "you  will  guard  Sir  Hugh  le  de  Spencer  to  the  Earl 
de  Warenne,  and  tell  him  that  I  am  ready  to  answer  any 
proper  messenger." 

The  young  Southron,  frowning,  followed  Scrymgeour 
from  the  hall;  and  Wallace  turning  to  Murray,  "My 
friend,"  said  he,  "  it  is  not  well  to  stimulate  insolence  by 
repartee.  This  young  man's  speech,  though  an  insult  to 
the  nation,  was  directed  to  me,  and  by  me  only  it  ought  to 
have  been  answered,  and  that  seriously.  In  all  transac- 
tions, whether  great  or  small,  we  should  never  give  a  need- 
less irritation  to  our  enemy.  The  haughty  spirit  of  this 
man  should  have  been  quelled,  not  incensed ;  and  had 
you  proceeded  one  word  further,  you  would  have  given  him 
an  apparently  just  cause  of  complaint  against  you,  —  and 
of  that,  my  friend,  I  am  most  sensibly  jealous.  It  is  neither 
policy  nor  virtue  to  be  rigorous  to  the  extent  of  justice." 

"I  know,"  returned  Murray,  blushing,  "that  my  wits 
are  too  many  for  me,  and  are  ever  throwing  me,  like  Phae- 
ton's horses,  into  the  midst  of  some  fiery  mischief.  But 
pardon  me  now,  and  I  promise  you  to  rein  them  close  when 
next  I  see  this  prancing  knight." 


STIRLING   CASTLE.  345 

"  Bravo,  my  Lord  Andrew !  "  cried  Kirkpatrick,  in  an 
affected  whisper.  "  I  am  not  always  to  be  bird  alone,  under 
the  whip  of  our  regent ;  you  have  had  a  few  stripes,  and 
now  look  a  little  of  my  feather  !  " 

"  Like  as  a  swan  to  a  vulture,  good  Roger ! "  answered 
Murray. 

Wallace  attended  not  to  this  tilting  of  humor  between 
the  chieftains,  but  engaged  himself  in  close  discourse  with 
the  elder  nobles  at  the  higher  end  of  the  hall.  In  half  an 
hour  Scrymgeour  returned,  and  with  him  Baron  Hilton. 
He  brought  an  apology  from  De  Warenne  for  the  be- 
havior of  his  ambassador,  and  added  his  persuasions  to  the 
demands  of  England  that  the  regent  would  surrender  Ber- 
wick, not  only  as  a  pledge  for  the  Scots  keeping  the  truce 
on  the  borders,  but  as  a  proof  of  his  confidence  in  Prince 
Edward. 

Wallace  answered  that  he  had  no  reason  to  show  extra- 
ordinary confidence  in  one  who  manifested  by  such  a  requi- 
sition that  he  had  no  faith  in  Scotland  ;  and  therefore,  neither 
as  a  proof  of  confidence  nor  as  a  gage  of  her  word,  should 
Scotland,  a  victorious  power,  surrender  the  eastern  door  of 
her  kingdom  to  the  vanquished.  Wallace  declared  himself 
ready  to  dismiss  the  English  prisoners  to  the  frontiers,  and 
to  maintain  the  armistice  till  they  had  reached  the  south  side 
of  the  Cheviots.  "  But,"  added  he,  "  my  word  must  be  my 
bond ;  for  by  the  honor  of  Scotland,  I  will  give  no  other  !  " 

"Then,"  answered  Baron  Hilton,  with  an  honest  flush 
passing  over  his  cheek,  as  if  ashamed  of  what  he  had  next 
to  say,  "  I  am  constrained  to  lay  before  you  the  last  instruc- 
tions of  the  Prince  of  Wales  to  Earl  de  Warenne."  He 
took  a  royally  sealed  roll  of  vellum  from  his  breast,  and 
read  aloud :  — 

Thus  saith  Edward  Prince  of  Wales,  to  Earl  de  Warenne, 
lord  warden  of  Scotland.  If  that  arch-rebel  William  Wallace, 
who  now  assumeth  to  himself  the  rule  of  all  our  royal  father's 
hereditary  dominions  north  of  the  Cheviots,  refuseth  to  give  unto 
us  the  whole  possession  of  the  town  and  citadel  of  Berwick- 
upon-Tweed  as  a  pledge  of  his  faith  to  keep  the  armistice  on  the 
borders  from  sea  to  sea,  we  command  you  to  tell  him  that  we 
shall  detain  under  the  ward  of  our  good  lieutenant  of  the  tower 
in  London  the  person  of  William  the  Lord  Douglas  as  a  close 


346  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

captive,  until  our  prisoners  now  in  Scotland  arrive  safely  at  New 
castle-upon-Tyne.  This  mark  of  supremacy  over  a  rebellious 
people  we  owe  as  a  pledge  of  their  homage  to  our  royal  father, 
and  as  a  tribute  of  our  gratitude  to  him  for  having  allowed  us  to 
treat  at  all  with  so  undutiful  a  part  of  his  dominions. 

(Signed)  Edward,  P  W. 

"  Baron,"  cried  Wallace,  "  it  would  be  beneath  the  dig- 
nity of  Scotland  to  retaliate  this  act  with  the  like  conduct. 
The  exchange  of  prisoners  shall  yet  be  made,  and  the 
armistice  held  sacred  on  the  borders.  But  as  I  hold  the 
door  of  war  open  in  the  interior  of  the  country,  before 
the  Earl  de  Warenne  leaves  this  citadel,  —  and  it  shall 
be  on  the  day  assigned,  —  please  the  Almighty  Lord  of 
Justice,  the  Southron  usurpers  of  all  our  castles  on  the 
eastern  coast  shall  be  our  hostages  for  the  safety  of  Lord 
Douglas." 

"  And  this  is  my  answer,  noble  Wallace  !  " 

"It  is;  and  you  see  no  more  of  me  till  that  which  I  have 
said  is  done." 

Baron  Hilton  withdrew.  And  Wallace,  turning  to  his 
peers,  rapidly  made  dispositions  for  a  sweeping  march  from 
frith  to  frith ;  and  having  sent  those  who  were  to  accom- 
pany him  to  prepare  for  departure  next  day  at  dawn,  he 
retired  with  the  lords  Mar  and  Bothwell  to  arrange  affairs 
relative  to  the  prisoners. 


CHAPTER   XXXVIII. 

THE  governor's  APARTMENTS. 

THE  sun  rose  on  Wallace  and  his  brave  legions  as  they 
traversed  the  once  romantic  glades  of  Strathmore; 
but  now  the  scene  was  changed.  The  villages  were  aban- 
doned, and  the  land  lay  around  in  uncultivated  wastes. 
Sheep  without  a  shepherd  fled  wild  from  the  approach  of 
man,  and  wolves  ran  howling  from  the  cloisters  of  depopu- 
lated monasteries.  The  army  approached  Dumblane,  but 
it  was  without  inhabitant;  grass  grew  in  the  streets,  and 


THE    GOVERNOR'S  APARTMENTS  347 

the  birds  which  roosted  in  the  desert  dwelhngs  flew  scared 
from  the  windows  as  the  trumpet  of  Wallace  sounded 
through  the  town.  Loud  echoes  repeated  the  summons 
from  its  hollow  walls;  but  no  other  voice  was  heard,  no 
human  face  appeared,  for  the  ravening  hand  of  Cressingham 
had  been  there  ! 

Wallace  sighed  as  he  looked  around  him.  "  Rather 
smile,"  cried  Graham,  "that  Heaven  hath  given  you  the 
power  to  say  to  the  tyrants  who  hath  done  this.  Here  shall 
your  proud  waves  be  stayed  !  " 

They  proceeded  over  many  a  hill  and  plain,  and  found 
that  the  same  withering  touch  of  desolation  had  burned 
up  and  overwhelmed  the  country.  Wallace  saw  that  his 
troops  were  faint  for  want  of  food ;  but  he  promised  that 
Ormsby  should  provide  them  a  feast  in  Perth,  and  with 
re-awakened  spirits  they  took  the  river  Tay  at  its  fords, 
and  were  soon  before  the  walls  of  that  well-armed  city.  But 
it  was  governed  by  a  coward.  Ormsby  fled  to  Dundee  at 
the  first  sight  of  the  Scottish  army.  His  flight  might  have 
warranted  the  garrison  to  surrender  without  a  blow ;  but  a 
braver  man  being  his  lieutenant,  sharp  was  the  conflict 
before  Wallace  could  compel  that  officer  to  abandon  the 
ramparts,  and  to  sue  for  the  mercy  which  he  had  at  first 
rejected. 

After  the  fall  of  Perth,  the  young  regent  made  a  rapid 
progress  through  that  part  of  the  country,  driving  the 
Southron  garrisons  out  of  Scone  and  all  the  embattled 
towns,  expelling  them  from  the  castles  of  Kincairn,  Elcho, 
Kinfaun,  and  Doune ;  and  then  proceeding  to  the  marine 
fortresses,  — those  avenues  by  which  the  ships  of  England 
had  poured  their  legions  on  the  eastern  coast,  —  he  com- 
pelled Dundee,  Cowper,  Glamis,  Montrose,  and  Aberdeen 
to  acknowledge  the  power  of  his  arms.  He  seized  most  of 
the  English  ships  in  these  ports,  and  manning  them  with 
Scots,  soon  cleared  the  seas  of  the  vessels  which  had 
escaped,  taking  some  and  putting  others  to  flight.  In  one 
of  the  latter  was  the  fugitive  Ormsby. 

This  enterprise  achieved,  Wallace,  with  a  host  of  pris- 
oners, turned  his  steps  towards  the  Forth.  But  ere  he  left 
the  banks  of  the  Tay  he  detached  three  thousand  men,  and 
putting  them  under  the  command  of  Lord  Ruthven,  gave 


348  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

him  a  commission  to  range  the  country  from  the  Carse  of 
Gowrie  to  remotest  Sutherland,  and  in  all  that  tract  to  re- 
duce every  town  and  castle  which  had  admitted  a  Southron 
garrison.  Wallace  took  leave  of  Lord  Ruthven  at  Hunting 
tower ;  and  that  worthy  nobleman,  when  he  assumed  with 
the  government  of  Perth  this  extensive  command,  said  as 
he  grasped  the  regent's  hand,  "  I  say  not,  bravest  of  Scots, 
what  is  my  gratitude  for  thus  making  me  an  arm  of  my 
country,  but  deeds  will  show  ! "  ^  He  then  bade  a  father's 
adieu  to  his  son,  counselling  him  to  regard  Wallace  as  the 
light  in  his  path ;  and  embracing  him,  they  parted. 

A  rapid  march  round  by  Fyfeshire,  through  which  victory 
followed  their  steps,  brought  the  conqueror  and  his  troops 
withm  sight  of  the  towers  of  Stirling.  It  was  on  the  eve 
of  the  day  which  he  had  promised  Earl  de  Warenne  should 
see  the  English  prisoners  depart  for  the  borders.  No 
doubt  of  his  arriving  at  the  appointed  time  was  entertained 
by  the  Scots,  or  by  the  Southrons  in  the  castle.  The  one 
knew  the  sacredness  of  his  word ;  and  the  other,  having 
felt  his  prowess,  would  not  so  far  disparage  their  own  as  to 
suppose  that  any  could  withstand  him  by  whom  they  were 
beaten. 

De  Warenne,  as  he  stood  on  the  battlements  of  the  keep, 
beheld  from  afar  the  long  line  of  Scottish  soldiers  as  they 
descended  the  Ochil  hills.  When  he  pointed  it  out  to  De 
Valence,  that  nobleman,  who  in  proportion  as  he  wished 
to  check  the  arms  of  Wallace  had  flattered  himself  that  it 
might  happen,  against  the  evidence  of  his  eye-sight  contra- 
dicted the  observation  of  the  veteran  earl.  "  Your  sight 
deceives  you,"  said  he;  "it  is  only  the  sunbeams  playing 
on  the  cliffs." 

"  Then  those  cliffs  are  moving  ones,"  cried  De  Warenne, 
"  which  I  fear  have  ground  our  countrymen  on  the  coast 
to  powder !  We  shall  find  Wallace  here  before  sunset,  to 
show  us  how  he  has  resented  the  affront  our  ill-advised 
prince  cast  on  his  jealous  honor." 

"His  honor,"  returned  De  Valence,  "is  like  that  of  his 
countrymen's,  —  an  enemy  alike  to  his  own  happiness  and 
to  that  of  others.     Had  it  allowed  him  to  accept  the  crown 

1  "  Deeds  show  "  is  one  of  the  honorable  mottoes  worn  by  the  present 
head  ot  the  noble  house  of  Ruthven. 


THE    GOVERNOR'S  APARTMENTS.  349 

of  Scotland,  and  to  have  fought  Edward  with  the  con- 
centrating arm  of  a  king ;  or  would  he  now  offer  peace  to 
our  sovereign,  granting  his  prerogative  as  liege  lord  of  the 
country,  —  all  would  go  well ;  but  as  his  honor  prevents  his 
using  these  means  of  ending  the  contest,  destruction  must 
be  the  end  of  his  career." 

"And  what  quarrel,"  demanded  De  Warenne,  "can  you, 
my  Lord  de  Valence,  have  against  this  nice  honor  of  Sir 
William  Wallace,  since  you  allow  it  secures  the  final  success 
of  our  cause  ?  " 

"  His  honor  and  himself  are  hateful  to  me  ! "  impatiently 
answered  De  Valence.  "He  crosses  me  in  my  wishes, 
public  and  private ;  and  for  the  sake  of  my  king  and  my- 
self, I  might  almost  be  tempted  —  "  He  turned  pale  as 
he  spoke,  and  met  the  penetrating  glance  of  De  Warenne. 
He  paused. 

"  Tempted  to  what  ?  "  asked  De  Warenne. 

"  To  a  Brutus  mode  of  ridding  the  state  of  an  enemy." 

"That  might  be  noble  in  a  Roman  citizen,"  returned  De 
Warenne,  "which  would  be  villanous  in  an  English  lord, 
treated  as  you  have  been  by  a  generous  victor,  —  not  the 
usurper  of  any  country's  liberties,  but  rather  a  Brutus  in 
defence  of  his  own.  Which  man  of  us  all,  from  the  general 
to  the  meanest  follower  in  our  camps,  has  he  injured  ? " 

Lord  Aymer  frowned.  "  Did  he  not  expose  me,  threaten 
me  with  an  ignominious  death,  on  the  walls  of  Stirling?" 

"  But  was  it  before  he  saw  the  Earl  of  Mar,  with  his  hap- 
less family,  brought  with  halters  on  their  necks  to  be  sus- 
pended from  this  very  tower  ?  Ah,  what  a  tale  has  the 
lovely  Countess  told  me,  of  that  direful  scene !  What  he 
then  did  was  to  check  the  sanguinary  Cressingham  from 
embrewing  his  hands  in  the  blood  of  female  and  infant 
innocence." 

"  I  care  not,"  cried  De  Valence,  "  what  are  or  are  not 
the  offences  of  this  domineering  Wallace,  but  I  hate  him; 
and  my  respect  for  his  advocates  cannot  but  correspond 
with  that  feeling."  As  he  spoke,  that  he  might  not  be  fur- 
ther molested  by  the  arguments  of  De  Warenne,  he  abruptly 
turned  away  and  left  the  battlements. 

Pride  would  not  allow  the  enraged  earl  to  confess  his 
private  reasons  for  this  vehement  enmity  against  the   Scot- 


350  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

tish  chief.  A  conference  which  he  had  held  the  preceding 
evening  with  Lord  Mar  was  the  cause  of  this  augmented 
hatred ;  and  from  that  moment  the  haughty  Southron  vowed 
the  destruction  of  Wallace,  by  open  attack  or  secret  treach- 
ery. Ambition,  and  the  base  counterfeit  of  love,  —  those 
two  master  passions  in  untempered  minds,  —  were  the 
springs  of  this  antipathy.  The  instant  in  which  he  knew 
that  the  young  creature  whom  at  a  distance  he  saw  clinging 
around  the  Earl  of  Mar's  neck  in  the  streets  of  Stirling 
was  the  same  Lady  Helen  on  whose  account  Lord  Soulis 
had  poured  on  him  such  undeserved  invectives  in  Bothwell 
castle,  curious  to  have  a  nearer  view  of  one  whose  transcen- 
dent beauty  he  had  often  heard  celebrated  by  others,  he 
ordered  her  to  be  immediately  conveyed  to  his  apartments 
in  the  citadel. 

On  their  first  interview  he  was  more  struck  with  her  per- 
sonal charms  than  he  had  ever  been  with  any  woman's, 
although  he  was  the  most  noted  for  gallantry  of  all  the  lords 
in  the  English  court.  He  could  hardly  understand  the  nature 
of  his  feelings  while  discoursing  with  her.  To  all  others  of 
her  sex  he  had  declared  his  enamored  wishes  with  as  much 
ease  as  vivacity  ;  but  when  he  looked  on  Helen,  the  ad- 
miration her  loveliness  inspired  was  checked  by  an  unde- 
scribable  awe.  No  word  of  passion  escaped  his  lips;  he 
sought  to  win  her  by  a  deportment  consonant  with  her  own 
dignity  of  manners,  and  obeyed  all  her  wishes,  except  when 
they  pointed  to  any  communication  with  her  parents.  He 
feared  the  wary  eyes  of  the  Earl  of  Mar.  But  nothing  of 
this  reverence  of  Helen  was  grounded  on  any  principle 
within  the  heart  of  De  Valence  ;  his  idea  of  virtue  was  so 
erroneous,  that  he  believed  by  merely  putting  on  its  sem- 
blance he  could  steal  on  the  confidence  of  his  victim,  and 
induce  her  to  forget  all  the  world  — nay.  Heaven  itself  — 
in  his  sophistry  and  blandishments.  To  facilitate  this  end, 
he  at  first  designed  to  precipitate  the  condemnation  of  the 
earl,  that  he  might  be  rid  of  a  father's  existence  holding  in 
dread  of  his  censure  the  perhaps  otherwise  yielding  heart 
of  his  lovely  mistress. 

The  unprincipled  and  impure  can  have  no  idea  that  vir- 
tue or  delicacy  are  other  than  vestments  of  disguise  or  orna- 
ment, to  be  thrown  off  at  will ;  and  therefore  to  reason  with 


1 

i 


THE    GOVERNOR'S  APARTMENTS.  35  I 

such  minds  is  to  talk  to  the  winds,  —  to  tell  a  man  who  is 
born  blind  to  decide  between  two  colors.  De  Valence  ex- 
pected that  the  moment  he  could  gain  an  interest  in  the 
heart  of  Lady  Helen,  she  would  fall  into  his  snare ;  but 
seeing  the  anguish  of  her  fears  for  her  father,  the  fervor 
with  which  even  on  her  knees  she  implored  his  life,  the 
wily  lover  comprehended  that  the  death  of  so  endeared  a 
parent  would  paralyze  every  tender  feeling  in  her  breast, 
and  that  instead  of  a  fond  beauty  he  should  clasp  a  piece 
of  living  marble  in  his  arms.  When  aware  of  this,  he 
adopted  the  plan  of  granting  the  earl  reprieves  from  day 
to  day ;  and  in  spite  of  the  remonstrances  of  Cressingham, 
he  intended,  after  having  worked  upon  the  terrors  of  Helen, 
to  grant  to  her  her  father's  life  on  condition  of  her  yielding 
herself  to  be  his.  He  had  even  meditated  that  the  accom- 
plishment of  this  device  should  have  taken  place  the  very 
night  in  which  Wallace's  first  appearance  before  Stirling 
had  called  its  garrison  to  arms. 

Impelled  by  vengeance  against  the  man  who  had  driven 
him  from  Dumbarton  and  from  Ayr,  and  irritated  at  being 
delayed  in  the  moment  when  his  passion  was  to  seize  its 
object,  De  Valence  thought  to  end  all  by  a  cotip  de  main^  — 
and  rushing  out  of  the  gates,  was  taken  prisoner. 

Now  that  the  whole  of  the  English  army  were  in  the 
same  captivity  with  himself,  that  he  saw  the  lately  pro- 
scribed Lord  Mar  governor  of  Stirling,  and  that  the  Scot- 
tish cause  seemed  triumphant  on  every  side,  he  changed 
his  former  illicit  views  on  Helen,  and  bethought  him  of 
making  her  his  wife.  Ambition,  as  well  as  love,  impelled 
him  to  this  resolution ;  for  he  aspired  to  the  dignity  of  Lord 
Warden  of  Scotland,  and  he  foresaw  that  the  vast  influence 
which  his  marriage  with  the  daughter  of  Mar  must  give 
him  in  the  country  would  be  a  decisive  argument  with  the 
King  of  England. 

To  this  purpose,  not  doubting  the  Scottish  earl's  accept- 
ance of  such  a  son-in-law,  on  the  very  day  that  Wallace 
marched  towards  the  coast  De  Valence  sent  to  request  an 
hour's  private  audience  of  Lord  Mar.  He  could  not  then 
grant  it,  but  at  noon  next  day  they  met  in  the  governor's 
apartments. 

The  Southron  without  much  preface  opened  his  wishes 


352  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

to  Lord  Mar,  and  proffered  his  hand  for  the  Lady  Helen. 
"  I  will  make  her  the  proudest  lady  in  Great  Britain,"  con- 
tinued he  ;  "  for  she  shall  have  a  court  in  my  Welsh  pro- 
vince little  inferior  to  that  of  Edward's  queen." 

"  Pomp  would  have  no  sway  with  my  daughter,"  replied 
the  earl ;  "  it  is  the  royal  mind  she  values,  not  its  pa- 
geantry. Whomsoever  she  prefers,  the  tribute  will  be  paid 
to  the  merit  of  the  object,  not  to  his  rank  ;  and  therefore, 
earl,  should  it  be  you,  the  greater  will  be  your  pledge  of 
happiness.  I  shall  repeat  to  her  what  you  have  said,  and 
to-morrow  deliver  her  answer." 

Not  deeming  it  possible  that  it  should  be  otherwise  than 
favorable,  De  Valence  allowed  his  imagination  to  roam 
over  every  anticipated  delight.  He  exulted  in  the  pride 
with  which  he  would  show  this  perfection  of  northern  beauty 
to  the  fair  of  England  :  how  would  the  simple  graces  of  her 
seraphic  form,  which  looked  more  like  a  being  of  air  than 
of  earth,  put  to  shame  the  labored  beauties  of  the  court ! 
And  then  it  was  not  only  the  artless  charms  of  a  wood- 
nymph  he  would  present  to  the  wondering  throng,  but  a 
being  whose  majesty  of  soul  proclaimed  a  high  descent 
and  peerless  virtues.  How  did  he  congratulate  himself,  in 
contemplating  this  unsullied  temple  of  virgin  innocence, 
that  he  had  never  by  even  the  vapor  of  one  impassioned 
sigh  contaminated  her  pure  ear,  or  broken  the  magic  spell 
which  seemed  fated  to  crown  him  with  happiness  unknown, 
with  honor  unexampled!  To  be  so  blessed,  so  distin- 
guished, so  envied,  was  to  him  a  dream  of  triumph  that 
wafted  away  all  remembrance  of  his  late  defeat ;  and  he 
believed,  in  taking  Helen  from  Scotland,  he  should  bear 
away  a  richer  prize  than  any  he  could  leave  behind. 

Full  of  these  anticipations,  he  attended  the  governor  of 
Stirling  the  next  day  to  hear  his  daughter's  answer.  But 
unwilling  to  give  the  earl  that  advantage  over  him  which  a 
knowledge  of  his  views  in  the  marriage  might  occasion,  he 
affected  a  composure  he  did  not  feel ;  and  with  a  lofty  air 
entered  the  room,  as  if  he  were  come  rather  to  confer  than 
to  beg  a  favor.  This  deportment  did  not  lessen  the  satis- 
faction with  which  the  brave  Scot  opened  his  mission. 

"My  lord,  I  have  just  seen  my  daughter.  She  duly 
appreciates  the  honor  you  would  confer  on  her;    she  is 


THE   GOVERNOR'S  APARTMENTS.  353 

grateful  for  all  your  courtesies  to  her  whilst  she  was  your 
prisoner;  but  beyond  that  sentiment,  her  heart,  attached 
to  her  native  land,  cannot  sympathize  with  your  wishes." 

De  Valence  started.  He  did  not  expect  anything  in  the 
shape  of  a  denial ;  but  supposing  that  perhaps  a  little  of 
his  own  art  was  tried  by  the  father  to  enhance  the  value  of 
his  daughter's  yielding,  he  threw  himself  into  a  chair,  and 
affecting  chagrin  at  a  disappointment  which  he  did  not 
believe  was  seriously  intended,  exclaimed  with  vehemence, 
"  Surely,  Lord  Mar,  this  is  not  meant  as  a  refusal !  I  can- 
not receive  it  as  such;  for  I  know  Lady  Helen's  gentle- 
ness ;  I  know  the  sweet  tenderness  of  her  nature  would 
plead  for  me,  were  she  to  see  me  at  her  feet  and  hear  me 
pour  forth  the  most  ardent  passion  that  ever  burned  in  a 
human  breast.  Oh,  my  gracious  lord,  if  it  be  her  attach- 
ment to  Scotland  which  alone  mihtates  against  me,  I  will 
promise  that  her  time  shall  be  passed  between  the  two 
countries.  Her  marriage  with  me  may  facilitate  that  peace 
with  England  which  must  be  the  wish  of  us  all ;  and  per- 
haps the  lord  wardenship,  which  De  Warenne  now  holds, 
may  be  transferred  to  me.  I  have  reasons  for  expecting 
that  it  will  be  so ;  and  then  she  as  a  cjueen  in  Scotland, 
and  you  as  her  father,  may  claim  every  distinction  from 
her  fond  husband,  every  indulgence  for  the  Scots  which 
your  patriot  heart  can  dictate.  This  would  be  a  certain 
benefit  to  Scotland ;  while  the  ignis  fatiius  you  are  now 
following,  however  brilliant  may  be  its  career  during  Ed- 
ward's absence,  must  on  his  return  be  extmguished  in 
disaster  and  infamy." 

The  silence  of  the  Earl  of  Mar,  who  willing  to  hear  all 
that  was  in  the  mind  of  De  Valence  had  let  hnn  proceed 
uninterrupted,  encouraged  the  Southron  lord  to  say  more 
than  he  had  at  first  intended  to  reveal ;  but  when  he  made 
a  pause,  and  seemed  to  expect  an  answer,  the  earl 
spoke : — 

"  I  am  fully  sensible  of  the  honor  you  would  bestow 
upon  my  daughter  and  myself,  by  your  alliance ;  but,  as  I 
have  said  before,  her  heart  is  too  devoted  to  Scotland  to 
marry  any  man  whose  birth  does  not  make  it  his  duty  to 
prefer  the  liberty  of  her  native  land  even  before  his  love 
for  her.  That  hope,  to  see  our  country  freed  from  a  yoke 
VOL.  I.  —  23 


354  ^-^'^^  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

unjustly  laid  upon  her,  —  that  hope  which  you,  not  consid- 
ering our  rights  or  weighing  the  power  that  lies  in  a  just 
cause,  denominate  an  ignis  fatmcs,  —  is  the  only  passion 
I  believe  that  lives  in  the  gentle  bosom  of  my  Helen  ;  and 
therefore,  noble  earl,  not  even  your  offers  can  equal  the 
measure  of  her  wishes." 

At  this  speech  De  Valence  bit  his  lip  with  real  disap- 
pointment ;  and  starting  from  his  chair  in  unaffected  dis- 
order, "  I  am  not  to  be  deceived,  Lord  Mar,"  cried  he  ;  "  I 
am  not  to  be  cajoled  by  the  pretended  patriotism  of  your 
daughter ;  I  know  the  sex  too  well  to  be  cheated  with  these 
excuses.  The  ignis  fatiius  that  leads  your  daughter  from 
my  arms  is  not  the  freedom  of  Scotland,  but  the  handsome 
rebel  who  conquers  in  its  name  !  He  is  now  fortune's 
minion ;  but  he  will  fall,  Lord  Mar,  and  then  what  will  be 
the  fate  of  his  mad  adherents  ?  " 

"  Earl  de  Valence,"  replied  the  veteran,  "  sixty  winters 
have  checked  the  tides  of  passion  in  my  veins ;  but  the 
indignation  of  my  soul  against  any  insult  offered  to  my 
daughter's  delicacy,  or  to  the  name  of  the  Lord  Regent  of 
Scodand,  is  not  less  powerful  in  my  breast.  But  you  are 
my  prisoner ;  and  I  pardon  what  I  could  so  easily  avenge. 
I  will  even  answer  you,  and  say  that  I  do  not  know  of  any 
exclusive  affection  subsisting  between  my  daughter  and  Sir 
William  Wallace ;  but  this  I  am  assured  of,  that  were  it 
the  case,  she  would  be  more  ennobled  in  bemg  the  wife  of 
so  true  a  patriot  and  so  virtuous  a  man  than  were  she  ad- 
vanced to  the  bosom  of  an  emperor.  And  for  myself,  were 
he  to-morrow  hurled  by  a  mysterious  Providence  from  his 
present  nobly-won  elevation,  I  should  glory  in  my  son,  were 
he  such,  and  would  think  him  great  on  a  scaffold  as  on  a 
throne." 

"  It  is  well  that  is  your  opinion."  replied  De  Valence, 
stopping  in  his  wrathful  strides,  and  turning  on  Mar  with 
vengeful  irony.  "  Cherish  these  heroics ;  for  you  will 
assuredly  see  him  so  exalted.  Then  where  will  be  his 
triumphs  over  Edward's  arms  and  Pembroke's  ^  heart ; 
where  your  daughter's  patriot  husband,  your  glorious  son  ? 

1  Lord  Aymer  de  Valence  was  Earl  of  Pembroke;  but  being  first 
known  in  Scotland  by  his  family  name,  in  that  kingdom  lie  was  never 
called  by  any  other. 


THE    GOVERNOR'S  APARTMENTS.  355 

Start  not,  old  man  !  for  by  all  the  powers  of  hell  I  swear, 
that  some  eyes  which  now  look  proudly  on  the  Southron 
host  shall  close  in  blood  !  " 

"  If  they  do,"  replied  Mar,  shuddering  at  the  demoniac 
fire  that  lightened  from  the  countenance  of  De  Valence, 
"  it  must  be  by  the  agency  of  devils ;  and  their  minister, 
vindictive  earl,  will  meet  the  vengeance  of  the  Eternal 
Arm  !  " 

"  These  dreams,"  cried  De  Valence,  "  cannot  terrify  me  : 
you  are  neither  a  seer  nor  I  a  fool  to  be  taken  by  such 
prophecies.  But  were  you  wise  enough  to  embrace  the 
advantage  I  offer,  you  might  be  a  prophet  of  good,  greater 
than  he  of  ErcUdown,  to  your  nation ;  for  all  that  you 
would  promise  I  would  take  care  should  be  fulfilled.  But 
you  cast  from  you  your  peace  and  safety  :  my  vengeance 
shall  therefore  take  its  course.  I  rely  not  on  oracles  of 
heaven  nor  hell,  but  what  I  devote  shall  be  condemned. 
I  have  pronounced  the  doom  of  my  enemies ;  and  though 
you  now  see  me  a  prisoner,  tremble,  haughty  Scot,  at 
the  resentment  which  lies  in  this  head  and  heart !  This 
arm  needs  not  the  armies  of  Edward  to  pierce  you  in  your 
boast ! " 

He  left  the  room  as  he  spoke;  and  Lord  Mar,  shaking 
his  venerable  head  as  he  disappeared,  said  to  himself, 
"  Impotent  rage  of  passion  and  of  youth,  I  pity  and  forgive 
you  ! " 

It  was  not,  therefore,  so  extraordinary  that  De  Valence, 
when  he  saw  Wallace  descending  the  Ochil  hills  with  the 
flying  banners  of  new  victories,  should  break  into  curses  of 
his  fortune  and  swear  inwardly  the  most  determined  re- 
venge. Fuel  was  added  to  this  fire  at  sunset,  when  the 
almost  measureless  defiles  of  prisoners  marshalled  under 
the  walls  of  Stirling,  and  takmg  the  usual  oath  to  Wallace, 
met  his  view. 

"  To-morrow  we  quit  these  dishonoring  walls,"  cried  he 
to  himself ;  "  but  ere  I  leave  them,  if  there  be  power  in 
gold  or  strength  in  my  arm  he  shall  die  ! " 


356  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 


CHAPTER   XXXIX. 

THE   STATE   PRISON. 

THE  regent's  re-entrance  into  the  citadel  of  Stirling, 
being  on  the  evening  preceding  the  day  which  he 
had  promised  should  see  English  lords  depart  for  their 
country,  De  Warenne,  as  a  mark  of  respect  to  a  man  whom 
he  could  not  but  regard  with  admiration,  went  to  tlie  bar- 
bacan-gate  to  bid  him  welcome. 

Wallace  appeared ;  and  as  the  cavalcade  of  noble  South- 
rons who  had  lately  commanded  beyond  the  Tay  followed 
him,  Murray  glanced  his  eye  around,  and  said  with  a  smile 
to  De  Warenne,  "  You  see.  Sir  Earl,  how  we  Scots  keep 
our  word !  "  and  then  he  added,  "  You  leave  Stirling  to- 
morrow ;  but  these  remain,  till  Lord  Douglas  opens  their 
prison-doors." 

"  I  cannot  but  acquiesce  in  the  justice  of  your  comman- 
der's determination,"  returned  De  Warenne  ;  "  and  to  com- 
fort these  gentlemen  under  their  captivity,  I  can  only 
tell  them  that  if  anything  can  reconcile  them  to  the  loss 
of  liberty,  it  will  be  being  the  prisoners  of  Sir  William 
Wallace." 

After  having  transferred  his  captives  to  the  charge  of 
Lord  Mar,  Wallace  went  alone  to  the  chamber  of  Mont- 
gomery to  see  whether  the  state  of  his  wounds  would  allow 
him  to  march  on  the  morrow.  While  he  was  yet  there,  an 
invitation  arrived  from  the  Countess  of  Mar,  requesting 
his  presence  at  an  entertainment  which  by  her  husband's 
consent  she  meant  to  give  that  night  at  Snawdoun  to  the 
Southron  lords  before  their  departure  for  England. 

"  I  fear  you  dare  not  expend  your  strength  on  this 
party?"  inquired  Wallace,  turning  to  Montgomery. 

"  Certainly  not,"  returned  he ;  "  but  I  shall  see  you 
amidst  your  noble  friends  at  some  future  period.  When  the 
peace  your  arms  will  win  is  established  between  the  two 
nations,  I  shall  then  revisit  Scotland,  and  openly  declare 
my  friendship  for  Sir  William  Wallace." 


THE  STATE  PRISON.  35/ 

"As  these  are  your  sentiments,"  replied  Wallace,  "I 
shall  hope  that  you  will  unite  your  influence  with  that  of 
the  brave  Earl  of  Gloucester  to  persuade  your  king  to  stop 
this  bloodshed ;  for  it  is  no  vain  boast  to  declare  that  he 
may  bury  Scotland  beneath  her  slaughtered  sons,  but  that 
they  never  will  again  consent  to  acknowledge  any  right  in 
a  usurper." 

"Sanguinary  have  been  the  instruments  of  my  sover- 
eign's rule  in  Scotland,"  replied  Montgomery,  "but  such 
cruelty  is  foreign  from  his  gallant  heart ;  and  without  of- 
fending that  high-souled  patriotism  which  would  make  me 
revere  its  possessor  were  he  the  lowliest  man  in  your  legions, 
allow  me,  noblest  of  Scots,  to  plead  one  word  in  vindication 
of  him  to  whom  my  allegiance  is  pledged  !  Had  he  come 
hither  conducted  by  war  alone,  what  would  Edward  have 
been  worse  than  any  other  conqueror  ?  But  on  the  reverse, 
was  not  his  right  to  the  supremacy  of  Scotland  acknowl- 
edged by  the  princes  who  contended  for  the  crown ;  and 
besides,  did  not  all  the  great  lords  swear  fealty  to  England 
on  the  day  he  nominated  their  king? " 

"  Had  you  not  been  under  these  impressions,  brave 
Montgomery,  I  believe  I  never  should  have  seen  you  in 
arms  against  Scotland ;  but  I  will  remove  them  by  a  simple 
answer.  All  the  princes  whom  you  speak  of,  excepting 
Bruce  of  Annandale,  did  assent  to  the  newly-offered  claim 
of  Edward  on  Scotland;  but  who  amongst  them  had  any 
probable  chance  for  the  throne  but  Bruce  and  Baliol? 
Such  ready  acquiescence  was  meant  to  create  them  one. 
Bruce,  conscious  of  his  inherent  rights,  rejected  the  iniqui- 
tous demand  of  Edward ;  Bahol  accorded  with  it,  and  was 
made  a  king.  All  who  were  base  enough  to  worship  the 
rising  sun,  and  I  may  say  contemn  the  God  of  Truth,  swore 
to  the  falsehood.  Others  remained  gloomily  silent ;  and 
the  bravest  of  them  retired  to  the  Highlands,  where  they 
dwelt  amongst  their  mountains  till  the  cries  of  Scotland 
called  them  again  to  fight  her  battles. 

"  Thus  did  Edward  establish  himself  as  the  liege  lord  of 
this  kmgdom.  And  whether  the  oppressions  which  followed 
were  his  or  his  agents'  immediate  acts,  it  matters  not ;  for 
he  made  them  his  own  by  his  after-conduct.  When  remon- 
strances were   sent  to  London   he   neither  punished  nor 


358  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

reprimanded  the  delinquents,  but  marched  an  armed  force 
into  our  country  to  compel  us  to  be  trampled  on.  It  was 
not  an  Alexander  nor  a  Charlemagne  coming  in  his  strength 
to  subdue  ancient  enemies,  or  to  aggrandize  his  name  by 
vanquishing  nations  far  remote,  with  whom  he  could  have 
no  particular  affinity.  Terrible  as  such  ambition  was,  it 
is  innocence  to  what  Edward  has  done.  He  came,  in  the 
first  instance,  to  Scotland  as  a  friend :  the  nation  committed 
its  dearest  interests  to  his  virtue ;  they  put  their  hands  into 
his,  and  he  bound  them  in  shackles.  Was  this  honor  ? 
Was  this  the  right  of  conquest  ?  The  cheek  of  Alexander 
would  have  blushed  deep  as  his  Tyrian  robe,  and  the  face 
of  Charlemagne  turned  pale  as  his  lilies,  at  the  bare  suspi- 
cion of  being  capable  of  such  a  deed. 

"No,  Lord  Montgomery,  it  is  not  our  conqueror  we  are 
opposing;  it  is  a  traitor,  who,  under  the  mask  of  friend- 
ship, has  attempted  to  usurp  our  rights,  destroy  our  liber- 
ties, and  make  a  desert  of  our  once  happy  country.  This 
is  the  true  statement  of  the  case ;  and  though  I  wish  not  to 
make  a  subject  outrage  his  sovereign,  yet  truth  demands 
of  you  to  say  to  Edward  that  to  withdraw  his  pretensions 
from  this  exhausted  country  is  the  restitution  we  may  justly 
claim,  is  all  that  we  wish.  Let  him  leave  us  in  peace,  and 
we  shall  no  longer  make  war  upon  him.  But  if  he  persist, 
which  the  ambassadors  from  the  Prince  of  Wales  denounce, 
even  as  Samson  drew  the  temple  on  himself  to  destroy  his 
enemies,  Scotland  will  discharge  itself  upon  the  valleys  of 
England,  and  there  compel  them  to  share  the  fate  in  which 
we  may  be  doomed  to  perish." 

"  I  will  think  of  this  discourse,"  returned  Montgomery, 
"  when  I  am  far  distant ;  and  rely  on  it,  noble  Wallace, 
that  I  will  assert  the  privilege  of  my  birth,  and  counsel  my 
king  as  an  honest  man." 

"  Highly  would  he  estimate  such  counsel,"  cried  Wallace, 
"  had  he  virtue  sufficient  to  know  that  he  who  will  not  be 
unjust  to  his  sovereign's  enemies  must  be  of  an  honor  that 
will  bind  him  with  double  fidelity  to  his  king.  Such  proof 
give  your  sovereign ;  and  if  he  have  one  spark  of  that 
greatness  of  mind  which  you  say  he  possesses,  though  he 
may  not  adopt  your  advice,  he  must  respect  the  adviser." 

As  Wallace  pressed  the  hand  of  his  friend  to  leave  him 


THE  STATE  PRISON.  359 

to  repose,  a  messenger  entered  from  Lord  Mar  to  request 
the  regent's  presence  in  his  closet.  He  found  him  with 
Lord  de  Warenne. 

The  latter  presented  him  with  another  dispatch  from  the 
Prince  of  Wales.  It  was  to  say  that  news  had  reached 
him  of  Wallace's  design  to  attack  the  castles  garrisoned 
by  England  on  the  eastern  coast.  Should  this  information 
prove  true,  he,  the  prince,  declared  that  as  a  punishment 
for  the  increasing  audacity  of  the  Scots  he  would  put  Lord 
Douglas  into  closer  confinement:  and  while  the  Southron 
fleets  should  baffle  all  Wallace's  attempts  against  the  cas- 
tles, the  moment  the  exchange  of  prisoners  was  made  on 
the  borders  an  army  from  England  should  enter  Scotland 
and  ravage  it  with  fire  and  sword. 

When  Wallace  had  heard  this  dispatch,  he  smiled  and 
said,  "  The  deed  is  done,  my  Lord  de  Warenne.  Both  the 
castles  and  the  fleets  are  taken;  and  what  punishment 
must  we  now  expect  from  this  terrible  threatener?" 

"  Little  from  him  or  his  headlong  counsellors,"  replied 
De  Warenne ;  "  but  Thomas  Earl  of  Lancaster,  the  king's 
nephew,  is  come  from  abroad  with  a  numerous  army.  He 
is  to  conduct  the  Scottish  prisoners  to  the  borders,  and 
then  to  fall  upon  Scotland  with  all  his  strength,  unless  you 
previously  surrender  not  only  Berwick  but  Stirling,  and  the 
whole  of  the  district  between  the  Forth  and  the  Tweed, 
into  his  hands." 

"My  Lord  de  Warenne,"  replied  Wallace,  "you  can 
expect  but  one  return  to  these  absurd  demands.  I  shall 
accompany  you  myself  to  the  Scottish  borders,  and  there 
make  my  reply." 

De  Warenne,  who  did  indeed  look  for  this  answer,  re- 
plied, "  I  anticipated  that  such  would  be  your  determina- 
tion; and  I  have  to  regret  that  the  wild  counsels  which 
surround  the  prince  precipitate  him  into  conduct  which 
must  draw  much  blood  on  both  sides,  before  his  royal 
father's  presence  can  regain  what  he  has  lost." 

"  Ah,  my  lord,"  replied  Wallace,  "  is  it  to  be  nothing  but 
war,  war?  Have  you  now  a  stronghold  of  any  force  in  all 
the  Highlands?  Is  not  the  greater  part  of  the  Lowlands 
free  ?  And  before  this  day  month,  not  a  rood  of  land 
shall  your  monarch  possess  in  Scotland.     We  conquer,  but 


2,6o  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

it  is  for  our  own.  Why  then  this  unreceding  determination 
to  invade  us?  Not  a  blade  of  grass  would  I  disturb  on 
the  other  side  of  Cheviot,  if  we  might  have  peace.  Let 
Edward  yield  us  that,  and  though  he  has  pierced  us  with 
many  a  wound,  we  will  yet  forgive  him." 

De  Warenne  shook  his  head  :  "  1  know  my  king  too  well 
to  expect  pacific  measures.  He  may  die  with  the  sword  in 
his  hand,  but  he  will  never  grant  an  hour's  repose  to  this 
country  till  it  submits  to  his  sceptre." 

"  Then,"  replied  Wallace,  "  the  sword  must  be  the  portion 
of  him  and  his  ruthless  tyrant !  If  the  blood  of  Abel 
called  for  vengeance  on  his  murderer,  what  must  be  the 
vials  of  wrath  which  are  reserved  for  thee ! " 

A  flush  overspread  the  face  of  De  Warenne  at  this  apos- 
trophe, and  forcing  a  smile,  "  This  strict  notion  of  right," 
said  he,  "  is  very  well  in  declamation ;  but  how  would  it 
crop  the  wings  of  conquerors  and  shorten  the  warrior's  arm 
did  they  measure  by  this  rule  !  " 

"  How  would  it  indeed  !  "  replied  Wallace  ;  "  and  that 
they  should,  is  most  devoutly  to  be  wished.  All  warfare 
that  is  not  defensive  is  criminal ;  and  he  who  draws  his 
sword  to  oppress,  or  merely  to  aggrandize,  is  a  murderer 
and  a  robber.     This  is  the  plain  truth,  Lord  de  Warenne." 

"  I  have  never  considered  it  in  that  light,  "  returned  the 
earl,  "  nor  shall  I  turn  philosopher  now.  I  revere  your 
principle,  Sir  William  Wallace  ;  but  it  is  too  sublime  to  be 
mine.  Nay,  nor  would  it  be  politic  for  one  who  holds  his 
possessions  in  England  by  the  right  of  conquest,  to  ques- 
tion the  virtue  of  the  deed.  By  the  sword  my  ancestors 
gained  their  estates,  and  with  the  sword  I  have  no  objection 
to  extend  my  territories." 

Wallace  now  saw  that  De  Warenne,  though  a  man  of 
honor,  was  not  one  of  virtue.  Though  his  amiable  nature 
made  him  gracious  in  the  midst  of  hostility,  and  his  good 
disposition  would  not  allow  him  to  act  disgracefully  in  any 
concern,  yet  duty  to  God  seemed  a  poet's  flight  to  him. 
Educated  in  the  forms  of  religion,  without  knowing  its 
spirit,  he  despised  them,  and  believed  the  Deity  too  wise  to 
be  affected  by  the  mummeries  of  the  Romish  ritual ;  igno- 
rant of  the  sublime  benevolence  which  disdains  not  to  pro- 
vide food  even  for  the  sparrow  ere  it  falls,  he  thought  the 


CHAPEL   IN  SNAWDOUN.  361 

Creator  of  all  too  great  to  care  about  the  actions  of  men. 
Hence,  being  without  the  principles  of  good,  virtue  as  virtue 
was  nonsense  to  him. 

Wallace  did  not  answer  his  remark,  and  the  conference 
was  soon  closed. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

CHAPEL   IN    SNAWDOUN. 

THOUGH  burning  with  stifled  passions,  Earl  de  Valence 
accepted  the  invitation  of  Lady  Mar.  He  hoped  to 
see  Helen,  to  gain  her  ear  for  a  few  minutes,  and  above 
all,  to  find  some  opportunity  during  the  entertainment  of 
taking  his  meditated  revenge  on  Wallace.  The  dagger 
seemed  the  surest  way  ;  and  could  he  render  the  blow 
effectual,  he  should  not  only  destroy  the  rival  of  his  wishes, 
but  by  ridding  his  monarch  of  a  powerful  foe,  deserve  every 
honor  at  the  royal  hands.  Love  and  ambition  again  swelled 
his  breast ;  and  with  recovered  spirits,  and  a  glow  on  his 
countenance  which  re-awakened  hope  had  planted  there,  he 
accompanied  De  Warenne  to  the  palace. 

The  hall  was  arrayed  with  feudal  grandeur  for  the  feast. 
The  seats  at  the  table,  which  was  spread  for  the  knights  of 
both  countries,  were  covered  with  highly-wrought  stuffs ; 
and  the  emblazoned  banners  and  other  armorial  trophies  of 
the  nobles  being  hung  aloft  according  to  the  degree  of  the 
owner,  each  knight  saw  his  precedence  and  where  to  take 
his  place.  The  most  costly  meats,  with  the  royally  attired 
peacock,  served  up  in  silver  and  gold  dishes,  and  wine  of 
the  rarest  quality,  sparkled  on  the  board.  During  the 
repast,  two  choice  minstrels  were  seated  in  the  gallery 
above  to  sing  the  friendship  of  King  Alfred  of  England 
with  Gregory  the  Great  of  Caledonia.  The  squires,  and 
other  military  attendants  of  the  nobles  present,  were  placed 
at  tables  in  the  lower  part  of  the  hall,  and  served  with 
courteous  hospitality. 

Resentful  alike  at  his  captivity  and  thwarted  passion,  De 
Valence  had  hitherto  refused  to  show  himself  beyond  the 


362  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

ramparts  of  the  citadel.  He  was  therefore  surprised,  on 
entering  the  hall  of  Snawdoun  with  De  Warenne,  to  see 
such  regal  pomp,  and  at  the  command  of  the  woman  who 
had  so  lately  been  his  prisoner  at  Dumbarton,  and  whom, 
because  she  resembled  an  English  lady  who  had  rejected 
him,  he  had  treated  with  the  most  rigorous  contempt. 
Forgetting  these  indignities  in  the  pride  of  displaying  her 
present  consequence.  Lady  Mar  came  forward  to  receive 
her  illustrious  guests.  Her  dress  corresponded  with  the 
magnificence  of  the  banquet :  a  robe  of  cloth  of  Baudkins 
enriched  while  it  displayed  the  beauties  of  her  person ;  her 
wimple  blazed  with  jewels,  and  a  superb  carkanet  emitted 
its  various  rays  from  her  bosom. ^ 

De  Warenne  followed  her  with  his  eyes,  as  she  moved 
from  him.  With  an  unconscious  sigh  he  whispered  De 
Valence,  "  What  a  land  is  this,  where  all  the  women  are 
fair  and  the  men  brave  !  " 

"  I  wish  that  it  and  all  its  men  and  women  were  in  perdi- 
tion !  "  returned  De  Valence  in  a  surly  tone.  Lady  Ruthven, 
entering  with  the  wives  and  daughters  of  the  neighboring 
chieftains,  checked  the  further  expression  of  his  spleen; 
and  he  now  sought  amongst  them,  but  sought  in  vain,  for 
Helen. 

The  chieftains  of  the  Scottish  army,  with  the  lords 
Buchan  and  March,  were  assembled  around  the  countess  at 
the  moment  a  shout  from  the  populace  without  announced 
the  arrival  of  the  regent.  His  noble  figure  was  now  disen- 
cumbered of  armor ;  and  with  no  more  sumptuous  garb 
than  the  simple  plaid  of  his  country,  he  appeared  effulgent 
in  manly  beauty  and  the  glory  of  his  recent  deeds.  De 
Valence  frowned  heavily  as  he  looked  on  him,  and  thanked 
his  fortunate  stars  that  Helen  was  absent  from  sharing  the 
admiration  which  seemed  to  animate  every  breast.  The 
eyes  of  Lady  Mar  at  once  told  the  libertine  De  Valence, 

1  "  Cloth  of  Baudtins "  was  one  of  the  richest  stuffs  worn  in  the 
thirteenth  century.  It  Is  said  to  have  been  composed  of  silk  interwoven 
with  gold.  According  to  Du  Cange,  it  derived  its  name  from  Baldeck, 
the  modern  appellation  for  Babylon,  where  it  was  first  manufactured.  A 
•wimple  was  a  liead-dress  of  the  times  ;  it  resembled  a  veil,  not  worn  flow- 
ing, but  in  curious  folds  upon  the  head.  The  carkanet  was  a  large  broad 
necklace  of  precious  stones  ot  all  colors,  set  in  various  shapes,  and  fas- 
tened by  gold  links  to  one  another. 


CHAPEL   IN  SNAVVDOUN.  363 

too  well-read  in  the  like  expressions,  what  were  her  senti- 
ments towards  the  young  regent ;  and  the  blushes  and 
eager  civilities  of  the  ladies  around  displayed  how  much 
they  were  struck  with  the  now  fully-discerned  and  un- 
equalled graces  of  his  person.  Lady  Mar  forgot  all  m 
him  ;  and  indeed  so  much  did  he  seem  the  idol  of  every 
heart,  that  from  the  two  venerable  lords  of  Loch-awe  and 
Bothwell  to  the  youngest  man  in  the  company,  all  ears 
hung  on  his  words,  all  eyes  upon  his  countenance. 

The  entertainment  was  conducted  with  every  regard  to 
that  chivalric  courtesy  which  a  noble  conqueror  always 
pays  to  the  vanquished.  Indeed,  from  the  wit  and  pleasan- 
try which  passed  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  tables,  and 
in  which  the  ever  gay  Murray  was  the  leader,  it  rather  ap- 
peared a  convivial  meeting  of  friends  than  an  assemblage  of 
mortal  foes.  During  the  banquet  the  bards  sung  legends 
of  the  Scottish  worthies  who  had  brought  honor  to  their 
nation  in  days  of  old,  and  as  the  board  was  cleared,  they 
struck  at  once  into  a  full  chorus.  Wallace  caught  the 
sound  of  his  own  name,  accompanied  with  epithets  of  ex- 
travagant praise ;  he  rose  hastily  from  his  chair,  and  with 
his  hand  motioned  them  to  cease.  They  obeyed ;  but 
Lady  Mar  remonstrating  with  him,  he  gayly  said  it  was  an 
ill  omen  to  sing  a  warrior's  actions  till  he  were  incapable  of 
performing  more,  and  therefore  he  begged  she  would  ex- 
cuse him  from  hearkening  to  his. 

"  Then  let  us  change  their  strains  to  a  dance,"  replied 
the  countess. 

"  A  hall !  a  hall !  "  exclaimed  Murray,  springing  from  his 
seat,  delighted  with  the  proposal. 

"  I  have  no  objection,"  answered  Wallace ;  and  putting 
the  hand  she  presented  to  him  into  that  of  Lord  de 
Warenne,  he  added,  "  I  am  not  of  a  sufficiently  gay  tem- 
perament to  grace  the  change  ;  but  this  earl  may  not  have 
the  same  reason  for  declining  so  fair  a  challenge." 

Lady  Mar  colored  with  mortification,  for  she  had  thought 
that  Wallace  would  not  venture  to  refuse  before  so  many ; 
but  following  the  impulse  of  De  Warenne's  arm,  she  pro- 
ceeded to  the  other  end  of  the  hall,  where,  by  Murray's  quick 
arrangement,  the  younger  lords  of  both  countries  had  already 
singled  out  ladies,  and  were  marshalled  for  the  dance. 


364  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

As  the  hours  moved  on,  the  sphits  of  Wallace  subsided 
from  their  usual  tone  into  a  sadness  which  he  thought 
might  be  noticed ;  and  wishing  to  escape  such  obser- 
vation, for  he  could  not  explain  to  those  gay  ones  why 
scenes  like  these  ever  made  him  sorrowful,  and  whisper- 
ing to  Mar  that  he  would  go  for  an  hour  to  visit  Mont- 
gomery, he  withdrew  unnoticed  by  all  but  his  watchful 
enemy. 

De  Valence,  who  hovered  about  his  steps,  had  heard 
him  inquire  of  Lady  Ruthven  why  Helen  was  not  present. 
He  was  within  hearing  of  this  whisper  also,  and  with  a 
Satanic  joy  the  dagger  shook  in  his  hand.  He  knew  that 
Wallace  had  many  a  solitary  place  to  pass  between  Snaw- 
doun  and  the  citadel ;  and  the  company  being  too  pleasantly 
absorbed  to  mark  who  entered  or  disappeared,  he  took  an 
opportunity  and  stole  out  after  him. 

But  for  once  the  impetuous  fury  of  hatred  met  a  tempor- 
ary disappointment.  While  De  Valence  was  cowering  like 
a  thief  under  the  eaves  of  the  houses,  and  prowling  along 
the  lonely  paths  to  the  citadel ;  while  he  started  at  every 
noise,  as  if  it  came  to  apprehend  him  for  his  meditated 
deed,  or  rushed  forward  at  the  sight  of  any  solitary  pas- 
senger whom  his  eager  vengeance  almost  mistook  for  Wal- 
lace, —  Wallace  himself  had  taken  a  different  track. 

As  he  walked  through  the  illuminated  archways  which 
led  from  the  hall,  he  perceived  a  darkened  passage.  Hop- 
ing by  that  avenue  to  quit  the  palace  unobserved,  he  imme- 
diately struck  into  it ;  for  he  was  aware  that  should  he  go 
the  usual  way  the  crowd  at  the  gate  would  recognize  him, 
and  he  could  not  escape  their  acclamations.  He  followed 
this  passage  for  a  considerable  time,  and  at  last  was 
stopped  by  a  door.  It  yielded  to  his  hand,  and  he  found 
himself  at  the  entrance  of  a  large  building.  He  advanced, 
and  passing  a  high  screen  of  carved  oak,  by  a  dim  light 
which  gleamed  from  waxen  tapers  on  the  altar,  he  per- 
ceived it  to  be  the  chapel. 

"A  happy  transition,"  said  he  to  himself,  "from  the  ju- 
bilant scene  I  have  now  left,  from  the  grievous  scenes  I 
have  lately  shared !  Here,  gracious  God,"  thought  he, 
"  may  I,  unseen  by  any  other  eye,  pour  out  my  whole  soul 
to  thee ;  and  here,  before  thy  footstool,  will  I  declare  my 


CHAPEL  IN  ^NAWDOUN.  365 

thanksgiving  for  thy  mercies,  and  with  my  tears  wash  from 
my  soul  the  blood  I  have  been  compelled  to  shed !  " 

While  advancing  towards  the  altar  he  was  startled  by  a 
voice  which  proceeded  from  the  quarter  whither  he  was 
going,  and  with  low  and  gently-breathed  fervor  uttered 
these  words:  "Defend  him,  Heavenly  Father!  Defend 
him  day  and  night  from  the  devices  of  this  wicked  man ; 
and  above  all,  during  these  hours  of  revelry  and  confidence, 
guard  his  unshielded  breast  from  treachery  and  death." 
The  voice  faltered,  and  added  with  greater  agitation,  "  Ah, 
unhappy  me,  that  I  should  be  the  cause  of  danger  to  the 
hope  of  Scotland  ;  that  I  should  pluck  peril  on  the  head  of 
William  Wallace  ! "  A  figure  which  had  been  hidden  by 
the  rails  of  the  altar  with  these  words  rose  suddenly,  and 
stretching  forth  her  clasped  hands  exclaimed  aloud,  "  But 
thou,  who  knowest  I  had  no  blame  in  this,  wilt  not  afflict 
me  by  this  danger!  Thou  wilt  deliver  him,  O  God,  out  of 
the  hand  of  this  cruel  foe  !  " 

Wallace  was  not  more  astonished  at  hearing  that  some 
one  in  whom  he  reposed  was  his  secret  enemy,  than  at  see- 
ing Lady  Helen  in  that  place  at  that  hour,  and  addressing 
Heaven  for  him.  There  was  something  so  celestial  in  the 
maid  as  she  stood  in  her  white  robes,  true  emblems  of  her 
own  innocence,  before  the  footstool  of  God,  that,  although 
her  prayers  were  delivered  with  a  pathos  which  told  they 
sprang  from  a  heart  more  than  commonly  interested  in 
their  object,  yet  every  word  and  look  breathed  so  elo- 
quently the  virgin  purity  of  her  soul,  the  hallowed  purpose 
of  her  petitions,  that  Wallace,  drawn  by  the  sympathy  with 
which  kindred  virtues  ever  attract  spirit  to  spirit,  did  not 
hesitate  to  discover  himself.  He  stepped  from  the  shadow 
which  involved  him  ;  the  pale  light  of  the  tapers  shone  up- 
on his  advancing  figure.  Helen's  eyes  fell  upon  him,  as 
she  turned  round.  She  was  transfixed  and  silent.  He 
moved  forward.  "  Lady  Helen,"  said  he,  in  a  respectful 
and  even  tender  voice.  At  the  sound,  a  fearful  rushing  of 
shame  seemed  to  overwhelm  all  her  faculties  ;  for  she  knew 
not  how  long  he  might  have  been  in  the  church,  and  if  he 
had  not  heard  her  beseech  Heaven  to  make  him  less  the 
object  of  her  thoughts.  She  sunk  on  her  knees  beside  the 
altar,  and  covered  her  face  with  her  hands. 


366  THE  SCOT':gSH  CHIEFS. 

The  action,  the  confusion,  might  have  betrayed  her 
secret  to  Wallace.  But  he  only  thought  of  her  pious  in- 
vocations for  his  safety ;  he  only  remembered  that  it  was 
she  who  had  given  a  holy  grave  to  the  only  woman  he 
could  ever  love, — and  full  of  gratitude,  as  a  pilgrim  would 
approach  a  saint,  he  drew  near  her.  "  Holiest  of  earthly 
maids,"  said  he,  kneeling  down  beside  her,  "  in  this  lonely 
hour,  in  the  sacred  presence  of  Almighty  Purity,  receive 
my  soul's  thanks  for  the  prayers  I  have  this  moment  heard 
you  breathe  for  me  !  They  are  more  precious  to  me,  Lady 
Helen,  than  the  generous  plaudits  of  my  country ;  they  are 
a  greater  reward  to  me  than  would  have  been  the  crown 
with  which  Scotland  sought  to  endow  me;  for  do  they  not 
give  me  what  all  the  world  cannot,  —  the  protection  of 
Heaven?  " 

"  I  would  pray  for  it,"  softly  answered  Helen,  but  not 
venturing  to  look  up. 

"  And  the  prayer  of  the  virtuous  we  know  availeth  much. 
What  then  may  I  not  expect  from  thine  ?  Continue  to 
offer  up  that  incense  for  me,"  added  he,  "  and  I  shall  march 
forth  to-morrow  with  redoubled  strength ;  for  I  shall  yet 
think,  holy  maid,  that  I  have  a  Marion  to  pray  for  me  on 
earth  as  well  as  in  heaven  ! " 

Lady  Helen's  heart  beat  at  these  words  ;  but  it  was  with 
no  unhallowed  emotion.  She  withdrew  her  hands  from 
her  face,  and  clasping  them,  looked  up  :  "  Marion  will  in- 
deed echo  all  my  prayers  ;  and  He  who  reads  my  heart  will, 
I  trust,  grant  them  !  They  are  for  your  life,  Sir  William 
Wallace,"  added  she,  turning  to  him  with  agitation,  "  for  it 
is  menaced." 

"  I  will  inquire  by  whom,"  answered  he,  "when  I  have 
first  paid  my  duty  at  this  altar  for  guarding  it  so  long.  And 
dare  I,  daughter  of  goodness,  to  ask  you  to  unite  the  voice 
of  your  gentle  spirit  with  the  secret  one  of  mine  ?  I  would 
beseech  Heaven  for  pardon  on  my  own  trangressions ;  I 
would  ask  of  its  mercy  to  establish  the  liberty  of  Scotland. 
Pray  with  me,  Lady  Helen ;  and  the  invocations  our  souls 
utter  will  meet  the  promise  of  him  who  said.  Where  two  or 
three  are  joined  together  in  prayer,  there  am  I  in  the  midst 
of  them  !  " 

Helen  looked  on  him  with  a  holy  smile;  and  pressing  to 


CHAPEL  IN  SNAWDOUN.  367 

her  lips  the  crucifix  which  she  held,  bowed  her  head  on  it 
in  mute  assent.  Wallace  threw  himself  prostrate  on  the 
steps  of  the  altar  ;  and  the  fervor  of  his  sighs  alone  breathed 
to  his  companion  the  deep  devotion  of  his  soul.  How  the 
time  passed  he  knew  not,  so  absorbed  was  he  in  the  commun- 
ion which  his  spirit  held  with  the  sublimest  of  beings.  But 
the  bell  of  the  palace  striking  the  matin  hour  reminded  him 
that  he  was  yet  on  earth ;  and  looking  up,  his  eyes  met 
those  of  Helen.  His  devotional  cross  hung  on  his  arm  ; 
he  kissed  it, —  "  Wear  this,  holy  maid,"  said  he,  "in  re- 
membrance of  this  hour."  She  bowed  her  fair  neck,  and  he 
put  the  consecrated  chain  over  it.  "  Let  it  bear  witness  to 
a  friendship,"  added  he,  clasping  her  hands  in  his,  "  which 
will  be  cemented  by  eternal  ties  in  heaven  !  " 

Helen  bent  her  face  upon  his  hands.  He  felt  the  sacred 
tears  of  so  pure  a  compact  upon  them  ;  and  while  he  looked 
up,  as  if  he  thought  the  spirit  of  his  Marion  hovered  near 
to  bless  a  communion  so  remote  from  all  infringement  of 
the  sentiment  he  had  dedicated  forever  to  her,  Helen  raised 
her  head,  and  with  a  terrible  shriek  throwing  her  arms 
around  the  body  of  Wallace,  he  that  moment  felt  an  assas- 
sin's steel  in  his  back,  and  she  fell  senseless  on  his  breast. 
He  started  on  his  feet,  and  a  dagger  fell  from  his  garments 
to  the  ground ;  but  the  hand  which  had  struck  the  blow  he 
could  nowhere  see.  To  search  further  was  then  impos- 
sible, for  Helen  lay  on  his  bosom  like  one  dead.  Not 
doubting  that  she  had  seen  his  assailant,  and  so  had  fainted, 
he  was  laying  her  on  the  steps  of  the  altar  that  he  might 
bring  some  water  from  the  basin  of  the  chapel  to  recover 
her,  when  he  saw  that  her  arm  was  not  only  stained  with 
his  blood,  but  streaming  with  her  own.  The  dagger  had 
pierced  it  in  reaching  him. 

"  Execrable  villain  !  "  cried  he,  turning  cold  at  the  sight; 
and  instantly  comprehending  that  it  was  to  defend  him  she 
had  thrown  her  arms  around  him,  he  exclaimed  in  a  voice 
of  agony,  "  Are  two  of  the  most  matchless  women  the  earth 
ever  saw  to  die  for  me  !  "  Trembling  with  terror  and  with 
renewed  grief,  for  the  terrible  scene  of  EUerslie  was  now 
brought  in  all  its  horrors  before  him,  he  tore  off  her  veil  to 
stanch  the  blood ;  but  the  gash  was  too  wide  for  his  sur- 
gery, and  losing  every  other  consideration  in  fears  for  her 


368  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

life,  he  again  took  her  in  his  arms  and  bore  her  out  of  the 
chapel.  He  hastened  through  the  dark  passage,  and 
almost  flying  along  the  lighted  galleries,  entered  the  hall. 
The  noisy  fright  of  the  servants  as  he  broke  through  their 
ranks  at  the  door  alarmed  the  revellers  ;  and  turning  round, 
what  was  their  astonishment  to  behold  the  regent  pale  and 
bloody,  bearing  in  his  arms  a  lady  apparently  lifeless,  and 
covered  with  the  same  dreadful  hue  ! 

Mar  instantly  recognized  his  daughter,  and  rushed 
towards  her  with  a  cry  of  horror.  Wallace  sunk  with  his 
breathless  load  upon  the  nearest  bench,  and  while  her  head 
rested  on  his  bosom  ordered  that  assistance  should  be 
brought.  Lady  Mar  gazed  on  the  spectacle  with  a  be- 
numbed dismay.  None  present  durst  ask  a  question,  till  a 
priest  drawing  near,  unbound  the  arm  of  Helen  and  dis- 
covered its  deep  wound. 

"  Who  has  done  this  1 "  cried  Mar,  turning  to  Wallace, 
with  all  the  anguish  of  a  father  in  his  countenance. 

"  I  know  not,"  replied  he ;  "  but  I  believe  some  villain 
who  aimed  at  my  life." 

"  Where  is  Lord  de  Valence  ?  "  exclaimed  Mar,  suddenly 
recollecting  his  menaces  against  Wallace. 

"  I  am  here,"  replied  he,  in  a  composed  voice ;  "  would 
you  have  me  seek  the  assassin  ?  " 

"No,  no  !"  cried  the  earl,  ashamed  of  his  suspicion; 
"  but  here  has  been  some  foul  work,  —  and  my  daughter  is 
slain!" 

"  Oh,  not  so  !  "  cried  Murray,  who  at  her  first  appear- 
ance had  hurried  towards  her  and  knelt  at  her  side,  —  "  she 
will  not  die ;  so  much  excellence  cannot  die !  "  A  stifled 
groan  from  Wallace,  accompanied  by  a  look,  told  Murray 
that  he  had  known  the  death  of  similiar  excellence.  With 
this  unanswerable  appeal,  the  young  chieftain  dropped  his 
head  on  the  other  hand  of  Helen ;  and  could  any  one  have 
seen  his  face,  buried  as  it  was  in  her  robes,  they  would 
have  beheld  tears  of  agony  drawn  from  that  ever  gay 
heart. 

The  wound  was  closed,  and  Helen  sighed  convulsively. 
At  this  intimation  of  recovery,  the  priest  made  all,  except- 
ing those  who  supported  her,  stand  back.  But  as  Lady 
Mar  lingered  near  Wallace,  she  saw  the  paleness  of  his 


CHAPEL   IN  SNA  WD  O  UN.  369 

countenance  turn  to  a  deadly  hue,  and  his  eyes  closing 
without  a  gasp  he  sunk  back  on  the  bench.  Her  shrieks 
now  resounded  through  the  hall :  and  falling  into  hysterics, 
she  was  taken  into  the  gallery,  while  the  more  collected 
Lady  Ruthven  remained  to  attend  the  victims  before  her. 

At  the  instant  Wallace  fell  De  Valence,  losing  all  self- 
command,  caught  hold  of  De  Warenne's  arm,  and  whisper- 
ing, "  I  thought  it  was  sure  !  Long  live  King  Edward  !  " 
rushed  out  of  the  hall.  These  words  revealed  to  De 
Warenne  who  was  the  assassin ;  and  though  struck  to  the 
soul  with  the  turpitude  of  the  deed,  he  thought  the  honor 
of  England  would  not  allow  him  to  accuse  the  perpetrator, 
and  remained  silent. 

The  inanimate  body  of  Wallace  was  now  drawn  from 
under  that  of  Helen ;  and  in  the  act  another  priest,  who 
had  arrived,  discovered  the  adjoining  tapestry  clotted  with 
blood,  and  that  the  regent's  back  was  also  bathed  in  the 
same  vital  stream.  Having  found  his  wound,  the  priests 
laid  him  on  the  ground,  and  were  administering  their  bal- 
sams when  Helen  opened  her  eyes.  Her  mind  was  too 
strongly  possessed  with  the  horror  which  had  entered  it 
before  she  became  insensible  to  lose  the  consciousness  of 
her  fears,  and  immediately  looking  around  her  with  an 
aghast  countenance,  her  sight  met  the  outstretched  body 
of  Wallace.  "  Oh  !  is  it  so  .-' "  cried  she,  throwing  herself 
into  the  bosom  of  her  father.  He  understood  what  she 
meant:  "He  lives,  my  child;  but  he  is  wounded  like 
yourself.  Have  courage ;  revive  for  his  sake,  and  for 
mine." 

"  Helen,  Helen  !  dear  Helen  !  "  cried  Murray,  clinging  to 
her  hand,  "  while  you  live,  what  that  loves  you  can  die  ?  " 

While  these  acclamations  surrounded  her  couch,  Edwin, 
in  speechless  apprehension,  supported  the  insensible  head 
of  Wallace ;  and  De  Warenne,  inwardly  execrating  the 
perfidy  of  De  Valence,  knelt  down  to  assist  the  priests  in 
their  office. 

A  few  minutes  longer  and  the  stanched  blood  refluxing 
to  the  chieftain's  heart,  he  too  opened  his  eyes ;  and  in- 
stantly starting  on  his  arm,  "  What  has  happened  to  me  ?  " 
demanded  he.     "  Where  is  Lady  Helen  ?  " 

At  his  voice,  which  aroused  Helen,  who  believing  that  he 
VOL.   I.  —  24 


370  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

was  indeed  dead  was  relapsing  into  her  former  state,  she 
could  only  press  her  father's  hand  to  her  lips,  as  if  he  had 
given  the  life  she  so  valued,  and  bursting  into  a  shower  of 
relieving  tears  breathed  out  her  rapturous  thanks  to  God. 
Her  low  murmurs  reached  the  ears  of  Wallace,  and  look- 
ing round  to  Edwin,  whose  colorless  cheek  told  the  depth  of 
his  fears,  "We  both  live,"  said  he.  "  Your  cousin  speaks  ; 
and  it  restores  me  to  hear  her  voice.  Let  me  declare  my 
gratitude  to  my  sweet  preserver." 

The  dimness  having  left  his  eyes,  and  the  blood  (the 
extreme  loss  of  which  from  his  great  agitations  had  alone 
caused  him  to  swoon)  being  stopped  by  an  embalmed 
bandage,  he  felt  no  further  inconvenience  from  his  wound, 
and  rising,  hastened  to  the  side  of  Helen.  Lord  Mar  softly 
whispered  to  his  daughter,  "  Sir  William  Wallace  is  at  your 
feet,  my  dearest  child;  look  on  him,  and  tell  him  that  you 
live." 

"  I  am  well,  my  father,"  returned  she,  in  a  faltering 
voice ;  "  and  may  it  indeed  please  the  Almighty  to  preserve 
him!" 

"  I  am  alive  and  well,"  answered  Wallace  ;  "  but  thanks 
to  God  and  to  you  that  I  am  so!  Had  not  that  lovely 
arm  received  the  greater  part  of  the  dagger,  it  must  have 
reached  my  heart." 

An  exclamation  of  horror  at  what  might  have  been  burst 
from  the  lips  of  Edwin.  Helen  could  have  re-echoed  it ; 
but  she  now  held  her  feelings  under  too  severe  a  rein  to 
allow  them  so  to  speak. 

"Thanks  to  the  Protector  of  the  just,"  cried  she,  "for 
your  preservation !  When  I  raised  my  eyes,  I  saw  the 
assassin  with  his  gown  so  held  before  his  face  that  I  could 
not  discern  who  he  was  ;  but  the  dagger  was  aimed  at  the 
back  of  Sir  William  Wallace  !  How  I  caught  it  I  cannot 
tell,  for  I  seemed  to  die  on  the  instant." 

Lady  Mar,  having  recovered,  re-entered  the  hall  just  as 
Wallace  had  knelt  down  beside  Helen.  Maddened  with 
the  sight  of  the  man  on  whom  her  soul  doted  in  such  a 
position  before  her  rival,  she  advanced  hastily,  and  in  a 
voice  which  she  vainly  attempted  to  render  composed  and 
gentle,  sternly  said,  "  Alarmed  as  I  have  been  by  your 
apparent  danger,  I  cannot  but  be  uneasy  at  the  attendant 


CHAPEL  IN  SNAWDOUN.  37 1 

circumstances.  Tell  me,  therefore,  and  satisfy  this  anxious 
company,  how  it  happened  that  you  should  be  with  the 
regent,  when  we  supposed  you  an  invalid  in  your  room,  and 
were  told  he  was  gone  to  the  citadel  ?  " 

A  crimson  blush  overspread  the  cheeks  of  Helen  at  this 
question,  for  it  was  delivered  in  a  tone  which  insinuated 
that  something  more  than  accident  had  occasioned  their 
meeting ;  but  as  innocence  dictated,  she  answered  :  "  I  was 
in  the  chapel  at  prayers.  Sir  William  Wallace  entered 
with  the  same  design ;  and  at  the  moment  he  desired  me 
to  mingle  mine  with  his,  this  assassin  appeared.  I  saw  his 
dagger  raised  against  our  protector,  and  I  saw  no  more." 

There  was  not  a  heart  present  that  did  not  give  credence 
to  this  account  but  the  polluted  one  of  Lady  Mar.  She 
smiled  incredulously,  and  turning  to  the  company,  "  Our 
noble  friends  will  accept  my  apology  if,  in  so  delicate  an 
investigation,  I  should  beg  that  my  family  alone  may  be 
present." 

Wallace  perceived  the  tendency  of  her  words;  and 
doubting  the  impression  they  might  make  on  the  minds 
of  men  ignorant  of  the  virtues  of  Lady  Helen,  he  hastily 
rose.  "  For  once,"  cried  he,  "  I  must  counteract  a  lady's 
orders.  It  is  my  wish,  lords,  that  you  will  not  leave  this 
place  till  I  explain  how  I  came  to  disturb  the  devotions 
of  Lady  Helen.  Wearied  with  festivities,  in  which  my 
alienated  heart  can  so  little  share,  I  thought  to  pass  an 
hour  with  Lord  Montgomery  in  the  citadel ;  and  in  seeking 
to  avoid  the  crowded  avenues  of  the  palace,  I  entered  the 
chapel.  To  my  surprise  I  found  Lady  Helen  there.  I 
heard  her  pray  for  the  happiness  of  Scotland,  for  the  safety 
of  her  defenders  ;  and  my  mind  being  in  a  frame  to  join  in 
such  petitions,  I  apologized  for  my  unintentional  intrusion, 
and  begged  permission  to  mingle  my  devotions  with  hers. 
Nay,  impressed  and  privileged  by  the  sacredness  of  the 
place,  I  presumed  still  further,  and  before  the  altar  of 
Purity  poured  forth  my  gratitude  for  the  duties  she  had 
paid  to  the  remains  of  my  murdered  wife.  It  was  at  this 
moment,  while  clasping  the  sweet  saint's  hands  in  mine, 
that  the  assassin  appeared.  I  heard  Lady  Helen  scream, 
I  felt  her  fall  on  my  breast,  and  at  that  instant  the  dagger 
entered  my  back. 


3/2  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

"This  is  the  history  of  our  meeting;  and  the  assassin,  — 
whomsoever  he  may  be,  and  how  long  soever  he  was  in  the 
church  before  he  sought  to  perpetrate  the  deed,  —  were  he 
to  speak  and  capable  of  uttering  truth,  could  declare  no 
other." 

"  But  where  is  he  to  be  found  ?  "  intemperately  demanded 
Lady  Mar. 

"  If  his  testimony  be  necessary  to  validate  mine,"  re- 
turned Wallace  with  dignity,  "  I  believe  Lady  Helen  can 
name  him." 

"  Name  him,  Helen!  name  him,  my  dear  cousin  !  "  cried 
Murray,  "that  I  may  have  some  link  with  thee.  Oh,  let 
me  avenge  this  deed  !  Tell  me  his  name,  and  so  yield  me 
all  that  thou  canst  now  bestow  on  Andrew  Murray !  " 

There  was  something  in  the  tone  of  Murray's  voice  that 
penetrated  to  the  heart  of  Helen.  "  I  cannot  name  him 
whom  I  suspect  to  any  but  Sir  William  Wallace.  And  I 
would  not  do  it  to  him,"  replied  she,  "were  it  not  to  warn 
him  against  future  danger.  I  did  not  see  the  assassin's 
face ;  therefore,  how  dare  I  set  you  to  take  vengeance  on 
one  who  perchance  may  be  innocent  ?  I  forgive  him  my 
blood,  since  Heaven  has  spared  to  Scotland  its  protector's." 

"  If  he  be  a  Southron,"  cried  Baron  Hilton,  coming  for- 
ward, "  name  him,  gracious  lady ;  and  I  will  answer  for  it, 
that  were  he  the  son  of  a  king  he  would  meet  death  from 
our  monarch  for  this  unknightly  outrage." 

"  I  thank  your  zeal,  brave  chieftain,"  replied  she;  "but  I 
would  not  abandon  to  certain  death  even  the  wicked  man. 
May  he  repent !  I  will  name  him  to  Sir  William  Wallace 
alone;  and  when  he  knows  his  secret  enemy,  I  trust  he 
will  guard  against  his  emissaries.  Meanwhile,  my  father,  I 
would  withdraw."  Then  whispering  to  him,  she  was  lifted 
in  his  arms  and  Murray's  and  carried  from  the  hall. 

As  she  moved  away  she  cast  her  eyes  on  Wallace.  He 
rose,  and  would  have  spoken ;  but  she  waved  her  hand  to 
him  with  an  expression  in  her  countenance  of  an  adieu  so 
heroic,  yet  so  tender,  that  feeling  as  if  he  were  parting  with 
a  beloved  sister,  who  had  just  risked  her  life  for  him  and 
whom  he  might  never  see  again,  he  uttered  not  a  word  to 
any  that  were  present,  but  turning  another  way,  left  the 
hall  by  an  opposite  door. 


THE   CARSE   OF  STIRLING.  373 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

THE   CARSE   OF   STIRLING. 

DAY-BREAK  gleamed  over  the  sky  before  the  won- 
dering spectators  of  the  late  extraordinary  scene 
had  dispersed  to  their  quarters. 

De  Warenne  was  so  well  convinced  by  what  had  dropped 
from  De  Valence  of  his  having  been  the  assassin,  that,  when 
they  met  at  sunrise  to  take  horse  for  the  borders,  he  made 
him  no  other  salutation  than  an  exclamation  of  surprise  not 
to  find  him  under  an  arrest  for  the  last  night's  work. 

"The  wily  Scot  knew  better,"  replied  De  Valence,  "than 
so  to  expose  the  reputation  of  the  lady.  He  knew  that  she 
received  the  wound  in  his  arms ;  and  he  durst  not  seize  me 
for  fear  I  should  proclaim  it." 

"  He  cannot  fear  that,"  replied  De  Warenne,  "  for  he 
has  proclaimed  it  himself.  He  has  told  every  particular  of 
his  meeting  with  Lady  Helen  in  the  chapel,  —  even  her 
sheltering  him  with  her  arms  ;  so  there  is  nothing  for  you 
to  declare  but  your  own  infamy.  For  infamous  I  must 
call  it,  Lord  Aymer.  And  nothing  but  the  respect  I  owe 
my  country  prevents  me  pointing  the  eyes  of  the  indignant 
Scots  to  you ;  nothing  but  the  stigma  your  exposure  would 
bring  upon  the  English  name  could  make  me  conceal  the 
deed." 

De  Valence  laughed  at  this  speech  of  De  Warenne's. 
"  Why,  my  lord  warden,"  said  he,  "  have  you  been  taking 
lessons  of  this  doughty  Scot  that  you  talk  thus?  It  was 
not  with  such  sentiments  you  overthrew  the  Princess  of 
Wales,  and  made  the  Kings  of  Ireland  fly  before  you  ! 
You  would  tell  another  story,  were  your  own  interest  in 
question ;  and  I  can  tell  you  that  my  vengeance  is  not  sat- 
isfied. I  will  yet  see  the  brightness  of  those  eyes  on  which 
the  proud  daughter  of  Mar  hangs  so  fondly  extinguished  in 
death.  Maid  or  wife,  Helen  shall  be  torn  from  his  arms  ; 
and  if  I  cannot  make  her  a  virgin  bride,  she  shall  at  least 
be  mine  as  his  widow  ;  for  I  swear  not  to  be  disappointed." 


374  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

"  Shame,  De  Valence !  I  should  blush  to  owe  my  cour- 
age to  rivalry,  or  my  j^erseverance  in  the  field  to  a  licentious 
passion.  You  know  what  you  have  confessed  to  me  were 
once  your  views  on  Helen  Mar." 

"  Every  man  according  to  his  constitution  !  "  returned 
De  Valence;  and  shrugging  his  shoulders,  he  mounted  his 
horse. 

The  cavalcade  of  Southrons  now  appeared.  They  were 
met  on  the  Carse  by  the  regent,  who,  not  regarding  the 
smart  of  a  closing  wound,  advanced  at  the  head  of  ten 
thousand  men  to  escort  his  prisoners  to  the  borders.  By 
Helen's  desire.  Lord  Mar  had  informed  Wallace  what  had 
been  the  threats  of  De  Valence,  and  that  she  suspected 
him  to  be  the  assassin.  But  this  suspicion  was  put  beyond 
a  doubt  by  the  evidence  of  the  dagger  which  Edwin  found 
in  the  chapel.  Its  hilt  was  enamelled  with  the  martlets  of 
De  Valence. 

At  sight  of  it  a  general  indignation  filled  the  Scottish 
chiefs ;  and  assembling  round  their  regent,  with  one  breath 
they  demanded  that  the  false  earl  should  be  detained,  and 
punished  as  became  the  honor  of  nations  for  so  execrable  a 
breach  of  all  laws,  human  and  divine.  Wallace  replied 
that  he  believed  the  attack  to  have  been  instigated  by  a 
personal  motive ;  and  therefore  as  he  was  the  object,  not 
the  state  of  Scotland,  he  should  merely  acquaint  the  earl 
that  his  villany  was  known,  and  let  the  shame  of  disgrace 
be  his  punishment. 

"  Ah,"  observed  Lord  Bothwell,  "  men  who  trample  on 
conscience  soon  get  over  shame  ! " 

"  True,"  replied  Wallace ;  "  but  I  suit  my  actions  to  my 
own  mind,  not  to  my  enemy's.  And  if  he  cannot  feel  dis- 
honor, I  will  not  so  far  disparage  myself  as  to  think  so 
worthless  a  creature  deserving  my  resentment." 

While  he  was  quieting  the  re-awakened  indignation  of 
his  nobles,  whose  blood  began  to  boil  afresh  at  sight  of  the 
assassin,  the  Southron  lords,  conducted  by  Lord  Mar,  ap- 
proached. When  that  nobleman  drew  near,  Wallace's  first 
inquiry  was  for  Lady  Helen.  The  earl  informed  him  he 
had  received  intelligence  of  her  having  slept  without  fever, 
and  that  she  was  not  awake  when  the  messenger  came  off 
with  his  good  tidings.     That  all  was  likely  to  be  well  with 


THE    CARSE    OF  STIRLING.  375 

her  was  comfort  to  Wallace ;  and  with  an  unruffled  brow 
riding  up  to  the  squadron  of  Southrons,  which  was  headed 
by  De  Warenne  and  De  Valence,  he  immediately  ap- 
proached the  latter,  and  drawing  out  the  dagger  held  it 
towards  him.  "  The  next  time,  Sir  Earl,"  said  he,  "  that 
you  draw  this  dagger,  let  it  be  with  a  more  knightly  aim 
than  assassination  ! " 

De  Valence,  surprised,  took  it  in  confusion  and  without 
answer;  but  his  countenance  told  the  state  of  his  mind. 
He  was  humbled  by  the  man  he  hated ;  and  while  a  sense 
of  the  disgrace  he  had  incurred  tore  his  proud  soul,  he  had 
not  dignity  enough  to  acknowledge  the  generosity  of  his 
enemy  in  again  giving  him  a  life  which  his  treachery  had 
so  often  forfeited.  Having  taken  the  dagger,  he  wreaked 
the  boiling  vengeance  of  his  malice  upon  the  senseless 
steel,  and  breaking  it  asunder  threw  the  pieces  into  the  air  ; 
then  turning  from  Wallace  with  an  affected  disdain,  he  said 
to  the  shivered  weapon,  "  You  shall  not  betray  me  again  !  " 

"Nor  you  betray  our  honors.  Lord  de  Valence,"  ex- 
claimed Earl  de  Warenne.  "And  therefore,  though  the 
nobleness  of  Sir  William  Wallace  leaves  you  at  large  after 
this  outrage  on  his  person,  we  will  assert  our  innocence  of 
connivance  with  the  deed;  and  as  lord  warden  of  this 
realm,  I  order  you  under  an  arrest  till  we  pass  the  Scottish 
lines." 

"  'Tis  well,"  cried  Baron  Hilton,  "  that  such  is  your  de- 
termination, my  lord  ;  else  no  honest  man  could  have  con- 
tinued in  the  same  company  with  one  who  has  so  tarnished 
the  English  name." 

De  Valence,  with  an  ironical  smile,  looked  towards  the 
squadron  which  approached  to  obey  De  Warenne,  and 
said :  "  Though  it  be  dishonor  to  you  to  march  with  me 
out  of  Scotland,  the  proudest  of  you  all  will  deem  it  an 
honor  to  be  allowed  to  return  with  me  hither.  I  have  an 
eye  on  those  who  stand  with  cap  in  hand  to  rebellion. 
And  for  you.  Sir  William  Wallace,"  added  he,  turning  to 
him,  who  was  reining  in  his  impatient  steed,  "  1  hold  no 
terms  with  a  rebel,  and  deem  all  honor  that  would  rid  my 
sovereign  and  the  earth  of  such  low-born  arrogance." 

Before  Wallace  could  answer  he  saw  De  Valence  struck 
from  his  horse  by  the  Lochaber-axe  of  Edwin.     Indignant 


376  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

at  the  insult  offered  his  beloved  commander,  he  had  sud- 
denly raised  his  arm,  and  aiming  a  blow  with  all  his 
strength,  the  earl  was  immediately  stunned  and  precipi- 
tated to  the  ground. 

At  sight  of  the  fall  of  the  Southron  chieftain  the  Scottish 
troops,  aware  of  there  being  some  misunderstanding  be- 
tween the  regent  and  the  English  lords,  uttered  a  shout. 
Wallace,  to  prevent  accidents,  on  the  instant  sent  to  the 
lines  to  appease  the  tumult,  and  throwing  himself  off  his 
horse  hastened  to  the  prostrate  earl.  A  fearful  pause  reigned 
throughout  the  Southron  ranks.  They  did  not  know  but 
that  the  enraged  Scots  would  now  fall  on  them,  and  in 
spite  of  the  regent  exterminate  them  on  the  spot.  The 
troops  were  running  forward,  when  Wallace's  messengers 
arrived  and  checked  them,  and  himself  calling  to  Edwin, 
stopped  his  further  chastisement  of  the  recovering  earl. 

"Edwin,  you  have  done  wrong,"  cried  he.  "Give  me 
that  weapon  which  you  have  sullied  by  raising  it  against  a 
prisoner  totally  in  our  power." 

With  a  vivid  blush,  Edwin  resigned  the  weapon  to  his 
general ;  yet  with  a  lingering  look  on  the  prostrate  De 
Valence,  he  said,  "  But  have  you  not  granted  life  twice  to 
this  prisoner  ?  And  has  he  not  in  return  raised  his  hand 
against  your  hfe  and  Lady  Helen's?  You  pardon  him 
again ;  and  in  the  moment  of  your  clemency  he  insults  the 
lord  regent  of  Scotland  in  the  face  of  both  nations  !  I 
could  not  hear  this  and  live,  without  making  him  feel 
that  you  have  those  about  you  who  will  not  forgive  such 
crimes." 

"  Edwin,"  returned  Wallace,  "  had  not  the  lord  regent 
power  to  punish  ?  And  if  he  see  right  to  hold  his  hand, 
those  who  punish  for  him  invade  his  dignity.  I  should  be 
unworthy  the  honor  of  protecting  a  brave  nation,  did  I 
stoop  to  tread  on  every  reptile  that  stings  me  in  my  path. 
Leave  Lord  de  Valence  to  the  sentence  his  commander  has 
pronounced.  And  as  an  expiation  for  your  having  offended 
military  and  moral  law  this  day,  you  must  remain  at  Stirling 
till  I  return  into  Scotland." 

De  Valence,  hardly  awake  from  the  stupor  which  the 
blow  of  the  battle-axe  had  occasioned  (for  indignation  had 
given  to  the  young  warrior  the  strength  of  manhood),  was 


THE    CARSE   OF  STIRLING.  I'J'J 

raised  from  the  ground ;  and  soon  after  coming  to  himself 
and  being  made  sensible  of  what  had  happened,  he  was 
taken,  foaming  with  rage  and  mortification,  into  the  centre 
of  the  Southron  lines. 

Alarmed  at  the  confusion  he  saw  at  a  distance.  Lord 
Montgomery  ordered  his  litter  round  from  the  rear  to  the 
front,  and  hearing  all  that  had  passed,  joined  with  De 
Warenne  in  pleading  for  the  abashed  Edwin. 

"  His  youth  and  zeal,"  cried  Montgomery,  "are  sufficient 
to  excuse  the  intemperance  of  the  deed." 

"No!"  interrupted  Edwin;  "I  have  offended,  and  I 
will  expiate.  Only,  my  honored  lord,"  said  he,  approaching 
Wallace,  while  he  checked  the  emotion  which  would  have 
flowed  from  his  eyes,  "when  I  am  absent,  sometimes  re- 
member that  it  was  Edwin's  love  which  hurried  him  to  this 
disgrace  !  " 

"  My  dear  Edwin,"  returned  Wallace,  "there  are  many 
impetuous  spirits  in  Scotland  who  need  the  lesson  I  now 
enforce  upon  you ;  and  they  will  be  brought  to  maintain 
the  law  of  honor  when  they  see  that  their  regent  spares 
not  its  slightest  violation,  even  when  committed  by  his  best 
beloved  friend.     Farewell  till  we  meet  again  !  " 

Edwin  kissed  Wallace's  hand  in  silence,  —  it  was  now 
wet  with  his  tears ;  and  drawing  his  bonnet  hastily  over  his 
eyes,  he  retired  into  the  rear  of  Lord  Mar's  party.  That 
nobleman  soon  after  took  leave  of  the  regent,  who,  placing 
himself  at  the  head  of  his  legions,  ordered  the  trumpets  to 
blow  the  signal  of  march.  Edwin,  at  the  sound  which  a 
few  minutes  before  he  would  have  greeted  with  so  much 
joy,  felt  his  grief-swollen  heart  give  way ;  he  sobbed  aloud, 
and  galloped  to  a  distance  to  hide  from  all  eyes  the  violence 
of  his  regrets.  The  trampling  of  many  horses  rolled  over 
the  ground  like  departing  thunder  ;  and  when  Edwin  at  last 
stole  a  look  towards  the  plain,  he  beheld  a  vast  cloud  of 
dust,  but  no  more  the  squadrons  of  his  friend. 


378  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 


CHAPTER   XLII. 

THE    CHEVIOTS. 

AS  Wallace  pursued  his  march  along  the  once  fertile 
and  well  peopled  valleys  of  Clydesdale,  their  present 
appearance  affected  him  like  the  sight  of  a  friend  whom  he 
had  seen  depart  in  all  the  graces  of  youth  and  prosperity, 
but  met  again  overcome  with  disease  and  wretchedness. 

The  pastures  of  Carstairs  on  the  east  of  the  river,  which 
used  at  this  season  to  be  whitened  with  sheep  and  sending 
forth  the  lowings  of  abundant  cattle,  and  the  hills  which 
had  teemed  with  reapers  rejoicing  in  the  harvest,  were  now 
laid  waste  and  silent.  The  plain  presented  one  wide  fiat 
of  desolation.  Where  once  was  the  enamelled  meadows,  a 
dreary  swamp  extended  its  vapory  surface ;  and  the  road, 
which  a  happy  peasantry  no  longer  trod,  lay  choked  up 
with  thistles  and  rank  grass ;  while  birds  and  animals  of 
chase  would  spring  from  its  thickets  on  the  lonely  traveller, 
to  tell  him  by  their  wildness  that  he  was  distant  from  the 
abode  of  men.  The  remains  of  villages  were  visible,  but  the 
blackness  of  ashes  marked  the  walls  of  the  ruined  dwelhngs. 

Wallace  felt  that  he  was  passing  through  the  country 
in  which  his  Marion  had  been  rifled  of  her  life;  and  as  he 
moved  along,  Nature  all  around  seemed  to  have  partaken 
her  death.  As  he  rode  over  the  moors  which  lead  towards 
the  district  of  Crawford- Lammington,  those  hills  amidst 
which  the  beloved  of  his  soul  first  drew  breath,  he  became 
totally  silent.  Time  rolled  back;  he  was  no  longer  the 
regent  of  Scotland,  but  the  fond  lover  of  Marion  Braidfoot. 
His  heart  beat  as  it  was  wont  to  do  in  turning  his  horse 
down  the  defile  which  led  direct  to  Lammington.  But  the 
scene  was  completely  changed ;  the  groves  in  which  he  had 
so  often  wandered  with  her  were  gone ;  they  had  been  cut 
down  for  the  very  purpose  of  destroying  that  place,  which 
had  once  been  the  abode  of  beauty  and  innocence  and  of 
all  the  tender  charities. 


THE   CHEVIOTS.  379 

One  shattered  tower  ^  alone  remained  of  the  castle  of 
Lammington.  The  scathing  of  fire  embrowned  its  sides, 
and  the  uprooted  garden  marked  where  the  ravager  had 
been.  While  his  army  marched  before  him  along  the 
heights  of  Crawford,  Wallace  slowly  moved  forward,  musing 
on  the  scene.  In  turning  the  angle  of  a  shattered  wall  his 
horse  started ;  and  the  next  moment  he  perceived  an  aged 
figure  with  a  beard  white  as  snow,  and  wrapped  in  a  dark 
plaid,  emerging  from  the  ground.  At  sight  of  the  appari- 
tion Murray,  who  accompanied  his  friend  and  had  hitherto 
kept  silence,  suddenly  exclaimed,  "  I  conjure  you,  honest 
Scot,  ghost  or  man,  give  us  a  subject  for  conversation  ! 
And  as  a  beginning,  pray  tell  me  to  whom  this  ruined  tower 
belonged." 

The  sight  of  two  warriors  in  the  Scottish  garb  encouraged 
the  old  man;  and  stepping  out  on  the  ground,  he  drew 
near  to  Murray.  "  Ruined,  indeed,  sir,"  repHed  he ;  "  and  its 
story  is  very  sad.  When  the  Southrons,  who  hold  Annan- 
dale,  heard  of  the  brave  acts  of  Sir  William  Wallace,  they 
sent  an  army  to  destroy  this  castle  and  domains,  which  were 
his  in  right  of  the  Lady  Marion  of  Lammington.  Sweet 
creature  !  I  hear  they  foully  murdered  her  in  Lanark." 

Murray  was  struck  speechless  at  this  information ;  for 
had  he  suspected  there  was  any  private  reason  with  Wal- 
lace for  his  silent  lingering  about  this  desolate  spot,  he 
would  rather  have  drawn  him  away  than  have  stopped  to 
ask  questions. 

"  And  did  you  know  the  Lady  Marion,  venerable  old 
man?"  inquired  Wallace,  in  a  voice  so  descriptive  of  what 
was  passing  in  his  heart  that  the  man  turned  towards  him ; 
and  struck  with  his  noble  mien,  he  pulled  off  his  bonnet 
and  bowing,  answered  :  "  Did  I  know  her  ?  She  was  nursed 
on  these  knees ;  and  my  wife,  who  cherished  her  sweet 
infancy,  is  now  within  that  brae.  It  is  our  only  home  ;  for 
the  Southrons  burned  us  out  of  the  castle,  where  our  young 
lady  left  us  when  she  went  to  be  married  to  the  brave 
young  Wallace.  He  was  as  handsome  a  youth  as  ever  the 
sun  shone  upon,  and  he  loved  my  lady  from  a  boy.  I  never 
shall  forget  the  day  when  she  stood  on  the  top  of  that  rock, 

1  The  ruins  of  this  tower  are  still  visible  ;  and  near  to  them  the  people  of 
the  country  point  out  the  place  where  Wallace  encamped  his  brave  army. 


380  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

and  let  a  garland  he  had  made  for  her  fall  into  the  Clyde. 
Without  more  ado,  never  caring  because  it  is  the  deepest 
here  of  any  part  of  the  river,  he  jumps  in  after  it,  —  and  I 
after  him ;  and  well  I  did,  for  when  I  caught  him  by  his 
bonny  golden  locks  he  was  insensible.  His  head  had 
struck  against  a  stone  in  the  plunge,  and  a  great  cut  was 
over  his  forehead.  God  bless  him !  a  sorry  scar  it  left ; 
but  many,  I  warrant,  has  the  Southron  now  made  in  his 
comely  countenance.  I  have  never  seen  him  since  he  grew 
a  man." 

Gregory,  the  honest  steward  of  Lammington,  was  soon 
recognized  in  this  old  man's  relation ;  but  time  and  hard- 
ship had  so  altered  his  appearance  that  Wallace  could  not 
have  recollected  the  ruddy  age  and  active  figure  of  his  well- 
remembered  companion  in  the  shaking  limbs  and  palhd 
visage  of  the  hoary  speaker.  When  he  ended,  the  chief 
threw  himself  from  his  horse.  He  approached  the  old 
man ;  with  one  hand  he  took  off  his  helmet,  and  with  the 
other  putting  back  the  same  golden  locks  he  said,  "  Was 
the  scar  you  speak  of  anything  like  this  .? " 

His  face  was  now  close  to  the  eye  of  Gregory,  who  in 
the  action,  the  words,  and  the  mark  immediately  recogniz- 
ing the  young  playmate  of  his  happiest  days,  with  an  ex- 
clamation of  joy  threw  himself  on  his  neck  and  wept ;  then 
looking  up,  with  tears  rolling  over  his  cheeks,  he  exclaimed, 
"  O  Power  of  Mercy !  take  me  to  thyself,  since  my  eyes 
have  seen  the  deliverer  of  Scotland ! " 

"  Not  so,  my  venerable  friend,"  returned  Wallace ;  "  you 
must  make  these  desolated  regions  bloom  anew.  Decorate 
them,  Gregory,  as  you  would  do  the  tomb  of  your  mistress. 
I  give  them  to  you  and  yours.  Marion  and  I  have  no 
posterity  !  Let  her  foster-brother,  if  he  still  live,  let  him  be 
now  the  laird  of  Lammington." 

"He  does  live,"  replied  the  old  man,  "but  the  shadow 
of  what  he  was.  In  attempting  with  a  few  resolute  lads  to 
defend  these  domains,  he  was  severely  wounded.  His 
companions  were  slain ;  and  I  found  him  on  the  other  side 
of  my  lady's  garden,  left  for  dead.  We  fled  with  him  to 
the  woods,  and  there  remained  till  all  about  here  was  laid 
in  ashes.  Finding  the  cruel  Southrons  had  made  a  gen- 
eral waste,  yet  fearful  of  fresh  incursions,  we  and  others 


THE   CHEVIOTS.  38 1 

who  had  been  driven  from  their  homes  dug  us  subterrane- 
ous dwellings,^  and  ever  since  have  lived  Hke  fairies  in  the 
o-reen-hill  side.  My  son  and  his  young  wife  and  babes  are 
now  in  our  cavern,  but  reduced  by  sickness  and  want ;  for 
famine  is  here.  Alas  !  the  Southrons  in  conquering  Scotland 
have  not  gained  a  kingdom,  but  made  a  desert !  " 

"  And  we  must  make  it  smile  again,"  returned  Wallace. 
"  I  go  to  reap  the  harvests  of  Northumberland.  What  our 
enemies  have  ravished  hence,  in  part  they  shall  refund; 
a  few  days,  and  your  granaries  shall  overflow.  Meanwhile, 
I  leave  with  you  my  friend,"  said  he,  turning  to  Murray. 
"At  the  head  of  five  hundred  men,  he  shall  to-morrow 
commence  the  reduction  of  every  English  fortress  that  yet 
casts  a  shade  on  the  stream  of  our  native  Clyde ;  for  when 
the  sun  next  rises  the  Southrons  will  have  passed  the  Scot- 
tish borders,  and  I  shall  again  have  blown  the  trumpet  of 
war." 

Gregory  fell  at  Wallace's  feet,  and  begged  that  he  might 
be  allowed  to  bring  his  Nannie  to  see  the  husband  of  her 
once  dear  child. 

"Not  now,"  replied  Wallace;  "I  could  not  bear  the 
interview.     She  shall  see  me  when  I  return." 

He  then  spoke  apart  to  Murray,  who  cheerfully  acqui- 
esced in  a  commission  that  promised  him  not  only  the  glory 
of  being  a  conqueror,  but  the  private  satisfaction,  he  hoped, 
of  driving  the  Southron  garrison  out  of  his  own  paternal 
castle.  To  send  such  news  to  his  noble  father  at  Stirling 
would  indeed  be  a  wreath  of  honor  to  his  aged  but  yet 
warlike  brow.  It  was  arranged  between  the  young  chief 
and  his  commander  that  watch-towers  should  be  thrown  up 
on  every  conspicuous  eminence  throughout  the  country,  — 
from  the  heights  of  Clydesdale,  to  those  which  skirted  the 
Scottish  borders,  —  whence  concerted  signals  of  victories, 
or  other  information,  might  be  severally  interchanged. 
These  preliminaries  adjusted,  the  regent's  bugle  brought 
Ker  and  Sir  John  Graham  to  his  side.  The  appointed 
number  of  men  were  left  with  Murray;  and  Wallace,  join- 

1  Several  of  these  vaulted  residences  may  now  be  seen  in  Crawford 
moor.  Tradition  informs  us  of  tlie  use  to  which  they  were  applied.  Not 
only  the  outraged  people  thus  found  shelter  in  the  bosom  of  their  mother 
earth,  but  the  cattle  also. 


382  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

ing  his  other  chieftains,  bade  his  friend  and  honest  servant 
adieu. 

He  now  awakened  to  a  sense  of  the  present  scene,  and 
saw  his  legions  traverse  hill  and  dale  till  they  entered  on 
the  once  luxuriant  banks  of  the  Annan.  This  territory  of 
some  of  the  proudest  lords  of  Scotland  lay  in  more  terrific 
ruin  than  even  the  tracts  he  had  left.  There,  reigned  the 
silence  of  the  tomb ;  here,  existed  the  expiring  agonies  of 
men  left  to  perish.  More  recent  marks  of  devastation 
smoked  from  the  blood-stained  earth ;  and  in  the  midst  of 
some  barren  waste  a  few  houseless  wretches  would  rush 
forward  at  sight  of  the  regent,  throw  themselves  before  his 
horse,  and  beg  a  morsel  of  food  for  their  famishing  selves 
and  dying  infants.  "  Look,"  cried  an  almost  frantic  mother, 
holding  towards  him  the  living  skeleton  of  a  child,  "  my 
husband  was  slain  by  the  Southrons  who  hold  Lochmaben 
castle  ;  my  subsistence  was  carried  away,  and  myself  turned 
forth  to  give  birth  to  this  child  on  the  rocks.  I  have  fed 
till  this  hour  on  their  berries;  but  I  die,  and  my  child 
expires  before  me ! "  A  second  group,  with  shrieks  of 
despair,  cried  aloud,  "  Here  are  our  young  ones,  exposed  to 
equal  miseries  !  Give  us  bread,  regent  of  Scotland,  or  we 
perish ! " 

Wallace  turned  to  his  troops  :  "  Fast  for  a  day,  my  brave 
friends,"  cried  he ;  "  lay  the  provisions  you  have  brought 
with  you  before  these  hapless  people.  To-morrow  you 
shall  feast  largely  on  Southron  tables." 

He  was  instantly  obeyed.  As  his  men  marched  on  they 
threw  their  loaded  wallets  amongst  the  famishing  groups, 
and  followed  by  their  blessings  descended  with  augmented 
speed  the  ravaged  hills  of  Annandale.  Dawn  was  brighten- 
ing the  dark  head  of  Brunswark  as  they  advanced  towards 
the  Scottish  boundary.  At  a  distance,  like  a  wreath  of 
white  vapors,  lay  the  English  camp  along  the  southern 
bank  of  the  Esk.  At  this  sight  Wallace  ordered  his  bugles 
to  sound ;  they  were  immediately  answered  by  those  of  the 
opposite  host.  The  heralds  of  both  armies  advanced ;  and 
the  sun,  rising  from  behind  the  eastern  hills,  shone  full 
upon  the  legions  of  Scotland  winding  down  the  romantic 
precipices  of  Wauchope. 

Two  hours  arranged  every  preliminary  to  the  exchange 


THE   CHEVIOTS.  383 

of  prisoners ;  and  when  the  clarion  of  the  trumpet  an- 
nounced that  each  party  was  to  pass  over  the  river  to  the 
side  of  its  respective  country,  Wallace  stood  in  the  midst 
of  his  chieftains  to  receive  the  last  adieus  of  his  illustrious 
captives.  When  De  Warenne  approached,  the  regent  took 
off  his  helmet.  The  Southron  had  already  his  in  his  hand. 
"  Farewell,  gallant  Scot,"  said  he.  "  If  aught  could  im- 
bitter  this  moment  of  recovered  freedom,  it  is  that  I  leave  a 
man  I  so  revere  still  confident  in  a  finally  hopeless  cause." 

"  It  would  not  be  the  less  just  were  it  indeed  desperate," 
replied  Wallace  ;  "  but  had  not  Heaven  shown  on  which 
side  it  fought,  I  should  not  have  had  the  honor  of  thus 
bidding  the  brave  De  Warenne  farewell." 

The  earl  passed  on ;  and  the  other  lords,  with  grateful 
and  respectful  looks,  paid  their  obeisance.  The  litter  of 
Montgomery  drew  near ;  the  curtains  were  thrown  open. 
Wallace  stretched  out  his  hand  to  him  :  "  The  prayers  of 
sainted  innocence  are  thine  !  " 

"  Never  more  shall  her  angel  spirit  behold  me  here,  as 
you  now  behold  me,"  returned  Montgomery.  "  I  must  be 
a  traitor  to  virtue  before  I  ever  again  bear  arms  against  Sir 
William  Wallace." 

Wallace  pressed  his  hand,  and  they  parted. 

The  escort  which  guarded  De  Valence  advanced ;  and 
the  proud  earl,  seeing  where  his  enemy  stood,  took  off  his 
gauntlet,  and  throwing  it  fiercely  towards  him  exclaimed, 
"  Carry  that  to  your  minion  Ruthven,  and  tell  him  the 
hand  that  wore  it  will  yet  be  tremendously  revenged  !  " 

As  the  Southron  ranks  filed  off  towards  Carlisle,  those 
of  the  returning  Scottish  prisoners  approached  their  de- 
liverer. Now  it  was  that  the  full  clangor  of  joy  burst  from 
every  breast  and  triumph-breathing  instrument  in  the  Scot- 
tish legions;  now  it  was  that  the  echoes  rang  with  loud 
huzzas  of  "  Long  live  the  valiant  Wallace,  who  brings  our 
nobles  out  of  captivity !     Long  live  our  matchless  regent !  " 

As  these  shouts  rent  the  air,  the  lords  Badenoch  and 
Athol  drew  near.  The  princely  head  of  the  former  bent 
with  proud  acknowledgment  to  the  mild  dignity  of  Wal- 
lace. Badenoch's  penetrating  eye  saw  that  it  was  indeed 
the  patriotic  guardian  of  his  country  to  whom  he  bowed, 
and  not  the  vain  effecter  of  regal  power. 


384  THE  SCOTTISH  CHIEFS. 

At  his  approach  Wallace  alighted  from  his  horse,  and 
received  his  offered  hand  and  thanks  with  every  grace 
inlierent  in  his  noble  nature.  "  I  am  happy,"  returned  he, 
"  to  have  been  the  instrument  of  recalling  to  my  country 
one  of  the  princes  of  our  royal  blood." 

"  And  while  one  drop  of  it  exists  in  Scotland,"  replied 
Badenoch,  "  its  possessor  must  acknowledge  the  bravest  of 
our  defenders  in  Sir  William  Wallace." 

Athol  next  advanced  ;  but  his  gloomy  countenance  con- 
tradicted his  words  when  he  attempted  to  utter  a  similar 
sense  of  obligation.  Sir  John  Monteith  was  eloquent  in 
his  thanks;  and  Sir  William  Maitland  was  not  less  sincere 
in  gratitude  than  Wallace  was  in  joy  at  having  given  liberty 
to  so  near  a  relation  of  Helen  Mar.  The  rest  of  the  cap- 
tive Scots,  to  the  number  of  several  hundreds,  were  ready  to 
kiss  the  feet  of  the  man  who  thus  restored  them  to  their 
honors,  their  country,  and  their  friends  ;  and  Wallace 
bowed  his  happy  head  under  a  shower  of  blessings,  which 
poured  on  him  from  a  thousand  grateful  hearts. 

In  pity  to  the  wearied  travellers  he  ordered  tents  to  be 
pitched,  and  for  the  sake  of  their  distant  friends  he  dis- 
patched a  detachment  to  the  top  of  Langholm  hill  to  send 
forth  a  smoke,  ^  in  token  to  the  Clydesdale  watch  of  the 
armistice  being  at  an  end.  He  had  hardly  seen  it  ascend 
the  mountain  when  Graham  arrived  from  reconnoitring, 
and  told  him  that  an  English  arrny  of  great  strength  was 
approaching  by  the  foot  of  the  hills  to  take  the  reposing 
Scots  by  surprise. 

"  They  shall  find  us  ready  to  receive  them,"  was  the 
prompt  reply  of  Wallace ;  and  his  actions  were  ever  the 
companions  of  his  words.  Leaving  his  harassed  friends  to 
rest  on  the  banks  of  the  Esk,  he  put  himself  at  the  head  of 
five  thousand  men ;  and  sending  a  thousand  more  with  Sir 
John  Graham  to  pass  the  Cheviots  and  attack  the  Southrons 
when  he  should  give  the  signal,  he  marched  swiftly  forward, 
and  fell  in  with  some  advanced  squadrons  of  the  enemy 
amongst  the  recesses  of  those  hills.     Little  expecting  such 

1  There  are  hills  in  Annandalc  and  Clydesdale,  called  Watches,  where 
persons  in  old  times  were  stationed  to  give  different  signals  appointed  by 
their  commanders.  These  notices  were  communicated  with  wonderful 
rapidity  by  smoke  in  the  day,  and  flame  at  night. 


THE    CHEVIOTS.  385 

a  rencontre,  they  were  marching  in  defiles  upon  the  ridgy 
craigs  to  avoid  the  swamps  which  occupied  the  broader 
way. 

At  sight  of  the  Scots,  Lord  Percy  the  Southron  com- 
mander ordered  a  party  of  his  archers  to  discharge  their 
arrows.  The  artillery  of  war  being  thus  opened  afresh, 
Wallace  drew  his  bright  sword,  and  waving  it  before  him 
like  a  meteor  of  night,  called  aloud  to  his  followers.  His 
inspiring  voice  echoed  from  hill  to  hill,  and  the  higher 
detachments  of  the  Scots,  pouring  downwards  with  the 
resistless  impetuosity  of  their  own  mountain  streams,  pre- 
cipitated their  enemies  into  the  valley ;  while  Wallace,  with 
his  pikemen,  charging  the  horse  in  those  slippery  paths, 
drove  the  terrified  animals  into  the  morasses,  where  some 
sunk  at  once,  and  others,  plunging,  threw  their  riders  to 
perish  in  the  swamp. 

Desperate  at  the  confusion  which  now  ensued,  as  his 
archers  fell  headlong  from  the  rocks  and  his  cavalry  lay 
drowning  before  him,  Lord  Percy  called  up  his  infantry. 
They  appeared ;  but  though  ten  thousand  strong,  the  deter 
mined  Scots  met  their  first  ranks  breast  to  breast,  and 
levelling  them  with  their  companions,  rushed  on  the  rest 
with  the  force  of  a  thunder-storm.  It  was  at  this  period 
that  the  signal  was  given  from  the  horn  of  Wallace  ;  and 
the  division  of  Graham  meeting  the  retreating  Southrons 
as  they  attempted  to  form  behind  the  hill,  completed 
their  defeat.  The  slaughter  became  dreadful,  the  victory 
decisive.  Sir  Ralph  Latimer,  the  second  in  command, 
was  killed  in  the  first  onset :  and  Lord  Percy  himself, 
after  fighting  as  became  his  brave  house,  fled  covered 
with  wounds  towards  Alnwick. 

VOL.  I.  —  25 


END    OF    VOL.   I. 


19174 


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